


The Forgotten Prince

by Tree_Mom



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, I'll add more characters as it goes on and as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 90,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25552810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tree_Mom/pseuds/Tree_Mom
Summary: Zuko was the Avatar that got frozen 100 years ago.Everything still changed when the Fire Nation attacked, but thanks to a message delivered by a Royal Fire Hawk the Air Nomads knew of the upcoming attack and were able to flee. The world is at war as the Fire Nation continues to take land in the Earth Kingdom. Seeking to help their allies and retribution for the unprovoked attack against the Air Nomads, the people of the Southern Water Tribe take up arms as the Northern Tribe builds itself walls of ice and snow.
Comments: 114
Kudos: 370
Collections: A:tla





	1. The Boy in the Iceberg

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post (https://aboutiroh.tumblr.com/post/623482349267697664/good-ho-mens-cubedleo-uberguber89) and too many late night ramblings between me and my friends, who are gracious enough to let me just them random things and respond to me with a patience that knows no bounds.

Sokka and Katara were lost.

Well not lost exactly, just separated from the rest of the fishing expedition. A freak wind had pushed their boat, and only their boat, away from the rest of the small fleet, and then they got stuck in an unexpected current that pulled them along between the chunks of ice littering the bay. It wasn’t the first time they had been alone, just the two of them on a boat in the ice field – not that Gran-Gran needed to know that – and there were definitely worse and more dangerous places to be, but still, not ideal.

“I can’t believe we got separated from the rest of the fleet.” Sokka sighed as he settled at the back of the boat, hand on the rudder, gently coaxing the boat away from potentially disastrous collisions whenever an iceberg got too close to the boat’s hull for Sokka’s comfort.

“Yes, and who’s fault is that, exactly?” his sister retorts from the front of the ship. “You’re leaning a little too heavily on the starboard side, you’re going to crash into one of these blocks.” She leaned over the front railing shielding her eyes with her hand from the blinding sun reflecting off all the ice, and looking at a compass, trying to find their bearings.

“No, I won’t,” Sokka adjusted the rudder taking Katara’s suggestion into consideration . “And it’s your fault because you didn’t get us out of the pull of the currents fast enough.”

“We wouldn’t have been caught in the currents if _you_ had tied down the sails when _I_ told you to.”

“Well I would have been able to tie down the sails in time if _someone_ had helped me instead of flirting with someone on another boat.” Sokka jerked the rudder control quickly in the opposite direction. The boat lurches away from a suddenly appearing iceberg, scraping and screeching along the edge of it as wood met solid ice. Sokka grits his teeth at the sound, and glares at his sister who was giving him a rather pointed look of ‘ _I told you so_ ,’ when a patch of snow, probably loosened from the not-collision, dropped onto her and she let out a rather undignified yelp. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, the sound echoing through the air.

That was his mistake. “I wasn’t flirting, I was trying to catch a fish with my waterbending. Which we wouldn’t need to do if _someone_ hadn’t flooded the **entire Northern section of town** ,” Katara twisted her wrists and the snow suddenly flung itself off her onto Sokka, then with an exaggerated dip of her hands the snow trickled into his parka.

He winced, immediately letting go of the rudder to brush the snow off him before Katara could pull anymore dirty tricks. “Okay, a few things. First” – he held up a finger in his gloved hand. “You’re not allowed to use your magic water skills against me,” gesturing at himself, “that’s the sibling code.” 

Katara crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out at him, retorting “It’s not magic, it’s waterbending. A-”

“Yeah, yeah, an important part of our history and survival, I know.” Sokka waved his hand, having heard that exact response thousands of times, before moving his hands to his hips. “Next, I think the weird current is gone, because we stopped moving, so help me put the net out. Might as well not waste a fishing trip.”

Katara acquiesced and helped Sokka put out the net into the water. As she worked straightening the net out, Sokka tied ropes to the corners so they’d be able to fish it out of the water later. They settled into a comfortable silence as they worked, Katara eventually joining Sokka tying the knots into the net before they flung it out together. They leaned on the side railing, Sokka looking outwards to keep an eye on the net, Katara looking inwards checking the sails. After a quiet moment, Sokka settled down and sat at Katara’s feet, pulling his knees to his chest, and hugging them as he still looked over at the horizon.

Katara glanced down at her older brother, looked away and cleared her throat. “You know I don’t really blame you for the lock breaking.”

He chuckles, “oh no, that was _entirely_ my fault. I take full responsibility. On the bright side” – Sokka holds up one of his hands – “I now know which locks to break in order to cut that section off from the rest of town. On the downside” – he holds up his other hand – “Gran-Gran is making me review all of the trade agreements we had from the Earth Kingdom, as well as the shipping manifests from our trade ships for the last _five_ years.” He groans and lets himself fall backwards taking up as much space on the floor as physically possible before holding up a hand directed to Katara. “Katara if I die, I know that you will take care of my beloved boomerang,” he gasps, and lets his hand fall beside him, feigning death.

Katara poked Sokka in the stomach with the toe of her boot, and he instinctively curled around it to protect himself from further attack. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Sokka suddenly sat up and eyed his sister, surprised at her response. “Yeah it is. It’s objectively boring, and time-consuming and utterly useless and I’d rather be spending my time –"

“Spending your time doing what exactly? Figuring out how to flood the _Southern_ half of town?” Katara cut him off. Sokka sputtered and stood up to attempt to defend himself, but Katara continues not allowing him to get a word in her face contorting with fury as she points a finger accusingly at him. “Because that sure is exactly what we need when we have exactly three waterbenders available to clean-up your messes,” the boat bobbing up and down slightly at her words.

Katara brings her hands up to her head - “Leave it to you to make a _mockery_ ” - and swings them back down in rage; the movement creating a small wave of water behind her. “Of all the work a chieftain has to do. You” - she raises her hands again - “should be _Honored_ ” - and swings them back down, creating a slightly larger wave, before bringing her hands back to her head at a loss for words before continuing - “Absolutely honored to be involved in such important decisions in our home. The sheer _audacity” -_ she throws a hand upwards, and a short jet of water shoots upward mimicking her movement. “You have to just disregard how important these things are.”

She swings both her hands back forcefully once again, her unconscious waterbending hurling a wave directly into the towering iceberg behind her; with a loud splitting crack, a hooklike fissure arcs up its surface and out its side, leaving a spray of ice where it ends. The unexpected wave caused the boat to rock, forcing Sokka to try to keep his balance as Katara continued to lecture him unperturbed by the rocking of the boat. 

“I’ve put just as much work as you have into keeping everyone safe and making buildings, in addition to training,” she hits the palm of her hand with her other hand, and the crack on the iceberg grows, little chunks of ice from the iceberg splash into the water, unheard and unnoticed by Katara. 

“Hey, Katara,” Sokka points at the iceberg behind Katara, his eyes growing wide as more chunks begin to fall into the water. “You might want to chill out,” he approaches her hands out in front of him bringing his hands down slowly in an attempt to calm his sister down.

“Calm down? You want  _ me _ to calm down!” As she yells she unconsciously waterbends once again, causing two new splits in the chunk of ice to form. “ It took me two years, Sokka.  **Two years** of convincing Gran-Gran to even let me anywhere near the council meetings. And here you are complaining about how you don’t want responsibilities, and it’s just  _ Not Fair. _ ” Her last movement is her most agitated and creates a huge wave, rocking the boat to the point where she loses her balance and Sokka moves to catch her. The wave impacts the iceberg and sends a number of cracks to snake their way up the iceberg; one of them reaches the top of the iceberg, splitting it completely in half. 

Petrified, Sokka gasps for air as Katara turns to look behind her. “I did that?” she gasps in disbelief. 

The two halves of the iceberg begin to fall away from each other, and Sokka reflectively runs them towards the mast and pulls Katara in closer shielding her with his back turned away from the iceberg trying to protect Katara as much as possible when the halves collapse into the water. A wave, much larger than any Katara cast at it, radiates outwards toward them. Their ship is thrown up against one of the other icebergs, before being moored on a flat slab of ice as the water recedes. Somehow neither of the siblings got hurt, and the boat remained unscathed. 

Sokka popped his head up to survey the damage, letting Katara go from the tight embrace, but still holding a protective arm over her, before turning his head toward her. “Yep, you did that. Congratulations, by the way,” he tilts his head towards their net, now thrown on the boat’s deck full of wriggling fish. “At least we got our fish.”

Sokka lets go of his sister entirely this time and slides down the side of the ship onto the ice plateau, slipping slightly as he lands on the ice before catching himself. Satisfied with his landing and that the ice would hold, he beckons towards his sister, declaring the ice safe. Katara slides down the side of the ship and lands more gracefully than Sokka, sliding on the ice, before coming to a stop in front of him. “That’s not fair,” Sokka grumbles, “you can’t be graceful and have magic water.”

Katara smirks at him, but gets quickly distracted as several small bubbles begin to appear on the surface of the water directly in front of them, a small spor beginning to glow with a bright bluish view. She pulls Sokka over to the edge to look at the bubbling water. Seeing the bubbles begin to erupt on the surface more violently, Sokka pulls Katara away, scrambling to get some distance between them and the edge of the ice sheer and tackles her to the ground as a large, roughly spherical iceberg breaks the surface of the water sending water droplets everywhere. She pushes Sokka off of her, gets up, and rubs the side of her that directly connected with the ice when Sokka launched himself at her.

“That’s the second time you’ve tackled me today, Sokka. And this one’s going to leave a bruise,” she complained as she brushes snow and ice dust off of her arms, wrings her braid, and puts up her hood. The waves crashing behind her are brushed off as the iceberg rocks itself from side to side before settling with its dome exposed above the water.

“Gee thanks, Sokka, for saving my life, _again_ ,” Sokka chimes as he lies in the snow. “No problem, Katara, all in a day’s work,” he replies back to himself, before sitting up. He yawns and squints his eyes as he’s blinded by the new iceberg that appeared in front of them He takes a second look and sees the shadow of a human shape, with a larger, indistinguishable mass surrounding it. Sokka rubs his eyes to clear his vision, and sees that it wasn’t just a trick of the light. “Is it me, or does it look like there’s someone in there?” He points a finger towards the iceberg.

Katara raises an eyebrow in confusion but looks at where Sokka is pointing. She walks towards the edge to get a closer look. At this distance, the blobbed shadow is more clearly a person, the reflected light accentuating its features, Katara determines that it is likely a boy, roughly Sokka’s age. Suddenly the boy opens his eyes, a brilliant light emanating from them, eliciting shocked gasps from both of the siblings. Katara looks upwards looking at the mass encircling the boy and sees the silhouette of a dragon, its mouth open, teeth bared, takes a step back, frightened, and trips. “He’s alive, I think.”

Sokka runs up to his sister to help her up, his club drawn from the sheath on his back. “We’ve got to help him then,” he nods at Katara, and motions towards the open water that separates them from the iceberg.

A plan is passed between them silently, and Katara stands arms apart, holding them in front of her. Holding her breath, her fingers twitch as one-by one five spots of the sea in front of them freeze into tiny chunks of ice. Once the fifth one is formed, Katara lets out the breath she had been holding and wipes off the sheen of sweat that had developed on her forehead. She starts panting, and Sokka very nearly drops his club in order to tend to her but stops as she holds her hand up and gestures towards the iceberg, another look of understanding passing between the two of them. _I can handle myself, you go deal with the person currently trapped in ice._

Sokka takes his cue and hops across the short distance between the floe and the iceberg using the five tiny chunks of ice Katara had made for him. They sink down as he lands on them before plopping back up as he jumps off. Once on the iceberg he shimmies up a bit, turns back and waves towards Katara, signalling that he was alright. Sokka climbed up the ice, reaching a flat which was directly in front of the figure. He could see the dragon more clearly now, and took a gulp before repeatedly striking the iceberg with the sharpened end of his club. On his fifth stroke, the club breaks through the surface and a gust of wind escapes from the iceberg, as Sokka dodges out of the way.

Fissures quickly snake their way over the whole iceberg and, in a massive outward explosion, the entire orb of ice destroys itself. A beam of light bursts from the core of the iceberg and rockets into the sky, breaking through the clouds and causing a wave of air to push the clouds apart, ripples centered around the beam of light. The sky crackles as a second ripple of air pushes the clouds even further away, as Katara and Sokka look upwards at the beam in awe. 

***

The shockwave from the beam of light was widespread. A hundred miles away a bald old man with a blue arrow tattoo on his forehead was riding his sky bison on a trip back to the remains of his home when a powerful gust of wind suddenly knocked the sky bison on its side, and flung the old man out of the saddle. The old man was falling, and quickly gaining speed when he began to swing his arms in a well-practiced windmill-like motion. The clouds around him get blown away as a gust of wind surrounds the old man and lifts him up as his sky bison dives to catch him. With a powerful flick of the bison’s tail, they quickly return to cruising altitude, as if the old man did not nearly plummet to his death. He releases the reins for a few seconds as he turns to see where the gust originated from, and sees a brilliant pillar of lights. He returns to the front of the saddle, picks up the reins and flicks them slightly to get his companion’s attention before using them to change their trajectory and lead the sky bison towards the beam of light.  


Far below them, under a cover of billowing soot, a Fire Nation ship floats in the ocean. A man in high-ranking Fire Nation regalia stands on the deck next to a table with a map of the area strewn across it. Holding a telescope he looks at the sky bison as it changes its direction. His grey hair flutters in the wind as he sets the telescope down. “Captain Jee,” he calls out, another man in uniform stands at attention at being addressed. “Please adjust our trajectory to match the sky bison’s. We can’t afford to lose them.”

“Yes, General Iroh,” Captain Jee nods before setting off to deliver the new orders to the rest of the crew. General Iroh turns back to looking through his telescope and tracking the movements of the sky bison, before looking beyond them to figure out what would make them change their trajectory so suddenly. He spots a large beam of light far away in the distance, and sets down the telescope again, rubbing his beard before looking at the map in front of him and muttering at himself about what exactly could be out there.

***

The gale settled and Sokka snapped back into the moment. Light still encircled the remains of the former mountain of ice, now a hollowed-out crater, but it wasn’t as blinding anymore. Brandishing his club he steps towards the center of the crater, where the figure had been before, before lowering it in shock as the figure emerges slowly from the depression in the iceberg, eyes still glowing. Sokka tightens his grip on the club, takes a defensive position, and in the bravest voice he could muster yells out “Stop!”

The figure, surprisingly, pays heed to Sokka’s command, and stays still glowing eyes trained on Sokka. Sokka stares back defiantly, intent on showing no fear, and for the first time notices the asymmetry in the eyes. As soon as Sokka and the figure make eye contact, the circles of light finally completely dissipate and the figure stops glowing. No longer bathed in light, the figure is revealed to be nothing more than a boy, likely Sokka’s age, who gives out a moan of exhaustion and suddenly faints, hitting the ground. The dragon, which - while the light still glowed - had been floating above the ice like the boy had been, suddenly collapsed onto the ice with a deafening thud. 

Sokka let his club drop to his side as he approached the unconscious figure, tapping him gently with the blunt end of his club. The boy does not stir. Glancing over at the dragon lying limply around them, Sokka steels himself as he sheaths his club and examines the boy more closely. The boy is very pale, and Sokka isn’t sure whether that’s because it’s his natural skin tone or because he’d been in the ice, it looks like a sickly pale. He cups the boy’s cheek -it’s cool to the touch, worrying Sokka even more - and turns his face over, wincing as he sees a large burn covering his eye and a good third of that side of his face. It looks recent, and very bad.

He glances down and sees the boy is certainly not clothed for a trip into the Antarctic, the clothing is too thin, and the wrong material. Sokka pushes away the thought that the clothing is also the wrong color: reds, gold and black instead of the blues and whites native to the South Pole. He’ll deal with those implications later. He pulls at the boy’s clothing again, and before he can change his mind pulls off his own parka and wraps him in it. It won’t do much to help fight off the cold on its own, but it’s better than nothing, and right now better than nothing is all they could do, what he needed was to be wrapped up in furs and looked at by their village healer, and Sokka was working on figuring out that part. 

Sokka dragged him over to the edge of the iceberg into the sun and away from the shadows, keeping an eye on the slumbering dragon when it twitched as they passed its head. Once at the edge he gave the guy a gentle pat on the head before sliding down the side of the iceberg with his club and hopped back across to the ice floe his sister was waiting for him on. He thought to himself that he was getting much better at these sorts of things, he hadn’t slipped once. 

“We’ve gotta get him back, fast,” he told his sister, slightly breathless and shivering as the wind picked up a little bit. “He doesn’t look good, very pale, cold to the touch.”

Katara paled at the mention of those symptoms, it could lead to hypothermia quickly, and that could easily be deadly. She nodded along as her brother instructed her on what to do to get their boat back into the water, it wouldn’t be difficult. They’d done it in the past, just the two of them. She didn’t worry, or say anything when her brother hooked them onto the iceberg. Or when he awkwardly scaled the side of the iceberg with his hunting knife. Or when he even more awkwardly tumbled down with the boy that had been trapped in the iceberg, and bumped his knee - she could have teased him for that, she had teased him for less in the past. But right now wasn’t a time for teasing. 

She  _ should _ have said something when he cursed beneath his breath when the dragon - for the creature now free from the ice surely was a dragon - raised its head and looked at them dazed, trying to make eye contact and failing as it put its head down. She didn’t. She should have stopped Sokka when he declared that they couldn’t just leave the dragon there. She nearly did, but one look at Sokka and instead of telling him that they in fact could leave the dragon she said “Okay. What can I do?” 

His smile nearly saved him from getting slapped upside the head when he said he wanted to put it on the boat. Nearly. But Katara loved her older brother, and sometimes love is getting the last pork bun even though they were Sokka’s favorite, and other times it’s helping wash each others’ smelly socks, and this one time it would mean helping Sokka coax a semi-delirious, fire-breathing dragon onto their very flammable boat. Sokka should be grateful that she only lightly tapped him on the head. But deep down she agreed with him, they couldn’t just leave it out here, alone, in the cold, disoriented, in a place that was very clearly not its home. 

And with that thought in her head, she joined Sokka in wrapping a net around the dragon’s mouth - she wasn’t sure what that would do, she heard that they could break bones with their jaw strength, but Sokka insisted that it would at least make them feel safer, and also allow them a way to lead the dragon. He was right on both accounts. She had to admit that there was something special in how Sokka managed to sweet talk the dragon into joining them on the boat after it became slightly more conscious. She didn’t know what he had said, but whatever it was it had worked, and the dragon had unceremoniously plopped itself onto the deck of their boat, after staggering to its feet. It wobbled on the deck before wrapping itself around the boy.

She raised an eyebrow at her brother and he just shrugged as if to say “I don’t know what I did but it worked, and I’m pretty sure if we question it too much it might blow up in our faces. Literally” And she agreed with him, so she didn’t question him, or how he did some things. It was part of their unspoken sibling code:  _ Sometimes you just have to back each other up, no questions asked. _ She helped Sokka unfurl the sails to catch the wind, it was blowing towards home for some reason; but, given all the strange things that had happened so far the wind blowing South was actually the most normal of them so far. 

***

With the wind behind them it didn’t take long to reach the bay that the Southern Water Tribe used as its main port. Sokka did some calculations in his head, even with the wind we should have taken much longer to get back to port. He decided to worry about it after he had delivered the boy to the healer’s hut and could get his coat back. He signalled towards one of the men at the deck to let them know they had an emergency; it was mostly him waving his arms and jumping around, but that was enough to get the message across. 

He turned towards Katara who was already beginning to use her waterbending to pull the ship towards the dock in the way only she could, he was proud of her, she no longer needed him to tell her to do it. She was getting better at it too, maybe he could take her out on one of the canoes so she could get more practice one of these days, but first he had an unconscious boy to deal with. He put his hand on the dragon, its scales were rougher than he thought they would be, less like a fish and more like a tiger seal, and warm to the touch. Or at least warmer than they were when he and Katara had found it.

That was a good thing, he heard that the original firebenders had an inner fire and could die if it got too cold. He rubbed his hand across its side to get the dragon’s attention and waited until it shifted its head to look at him. “Hey, we’re here,” he whispered. “I’m gonna need you to unravel so that I can take him to the healer like I promised, okay?”

The dragon looked deep into Sokka’s eyes, and Sokka felt like he was having his whole life judged. The dragon squinted its eyes before letting out a puff of smoke in Sokka’s face - Sokka was proud of few things about himself, but not flinching in the face of a dragon was one that he would at to the list - before retreating and unraveling and separating itself from the boy it had been protecting and warming during their trip. Sokka and Katara had been concerned that he hadn’t awoken during the journey, but at the very least he looked as if he had a bit more color in his cheeks, and that was a good sign. 

He hefted the boy over his shoulders as the dock men attached a ramp to their boat, good old Katara fastening it on their end. He started to make his way down the ramp when he came face-to-face with the only figure currently at the South Pole - Katara excluded - that could strike fear, dread, and a deep sense of belonging into Sokka’s heart all at once: Their Gran-Gran. No doubt about to lecture him for letting them get separated from the rest of the fleet, but Sokka could still catch a glimpse of immense and immediate relief upon seeing him and his sister return safely in her eyes. 

“Hey, Gran-Gran,” Sokka started before his grandmother could get a word in. “I know what you’re going to say, but can you lecture me on the way to Kiki’s hut? I think it’s rather important that he,” Sokka shifts the boy he’s carrying on his shoulder for emphasis, and for his comfort, “gets to a healer as soon as possible. I kind of promised a dragon I’d do that. And if you wait to lecture me until after I deliver him and come back and figure out what to do with the dragon, I’ll let you lecture me for as long as you want, No complaints, I swear on the Spirits.” 

Kanna was not a woman who was easily stunned. She had raised her son and his friends and borne all the trouble that they had caused with the grace, wisdom, and patience that could only be granted by the Spirits. She had had her daughter-in-law taken from her, and raised her grandchildren alongside their father as he grieved. When her son, now Chief, had left with all those who could fight five years ago, she acted as de facto Chief for the Southern Water Tribe, taking every issue and problem thrown her way in stride. Nothing, not Katara discovering her powers and accidentally toppling one of the Northern walls, not her son and his best friend accidentally igniting a barrel of oil and burning down one of the warships, not even Sokka’s recent flooding of the Southern reaches of town could have prepared her for what stood in front of her: her grandson, carrying an unconscious person, willingly agreeing to get lectured for an indeterminate amount of time, while what was now very clearly a dragon tried to stumble down the ramp and onto the dock.

Sokka had gambled on Gran-Gran’s immense protective streak to overpower any immediate urge to lecture him, as well as to have her turn a blind eye at the very wrong colors that the boy wore. It was a gamble Sokka knew he would always win, for as soon as she saw him coatless and lugging a body that was surely too heavy for him to carry by himself, her eyes softened. Quick to respond to any crisis, she called out to several of the men stationed at the docks to help Sokka. She sent one off ahead to warn Kiki that they had an incoming patient, and another to go get an extra coat for Sokka - “The last thing Kiki will need is a second patient.” 

Gran-Gran, never the type to do things halfway, did not lecture Sokka until he, Katara, and the dragon were sitting in front of a fire, warm tea in their hands, wearing the new coats Gran-Gran was in the middle of making for them - or thoroughly draped in furs in the case of the dragon - as Gran-Gran was cooking five-flavor soup in the largest pot in the South Pole. The boy had been safely delivered to Kiki, who had grumbled at their nickname but taken the boy no questions asked. Not even when they had returned Sokka’s coat to him and set aside the reds and blacks that the boy had been wearing that they had deemed too thin to properly insulate the boy, and was likely sapping his warmth if it was truly Fire Nation garb. Sokka was thankful for the lack of questions from Kiki and Gran-Gran, mostly because he still didn’t know exactly what had happened.

Gran-Gran had insisted on treating the dragon like a long lost grandchild, and swore to rectify the abhorrent lack of Gran-Gran’s five-flavor soup in its life so far. All-in-all, she could have handled me bringing back a dragon and Katara bringing back a boy much worse, Sokka thought to himself, as Gran-Gran handed him a large helping of the food. She didn’t make it often, only special occasions, so he thought he’d enjoy it while he could.

Gran-Gran handed another plate to Katara, who took it heartedly, and poured two more plates, setting one aside, before offering all that remained in the pot to the dragon. Unsure of what to do with the pot it had been given, the dragon eyed Gran-Gran suspiciously, as she brought the soup to her lips motioning to Katara and Sokka to do the same. After waiting a few seconds and seeing that nobody had keeled over dead, in fact the Water Tribe siblings were enjoying their meal very much, the dragon took two sniffs of the pot before deciding to stick its entire head in and slurp up the soup. 

“Well, I can add feeding a dragon to the long list of things I have done in this lifetime,” Gran-Gran laughed. “Now,” she turned to Sokka and Katara, who both gulped suddenly, figuring out the soup had been a ploy to coax them into a false sense of ease and security almost simultaneously. “You two are going to tell me everything that just happened. Everything.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still inspired by this post (https://aboutiroh.tumblr.com/post/623482349267697664/good-ho-mens-cubedleo-uberguber89) and too many late night ramblings between me and my friends, who are gracious enough to let me just them random things and respond to me with a patience that knows no bounds.

His father’s throne room was dark in the storm. The fires surrounding the dais upon which the Fire Lord’s throne now sat casting dancing shadows into the hall. This was not the throne room that he had grown up running around in. It was too long, the columns too thin, the throne itself different. It was all wrong. He was kneeling before his father, begging him to be merciful to rethink his plans, to think of the balance. These people are peaceful, he had said. Pacifists. Why would we start war to mar such an unprecedented era of peace, it would be foolish to.

His father had stepped forward towards him, cutting through the flames as they grew higher and higher, now licking the ceiling. His father too was all wrong. He didn’t recognize him at first. He was too tall, too broad, too sharp, too imposing, his face shadowed; the father he had known was made of rounded edges, a caring man of the people. And Zuko saw that, for a split second, as his father cupped his face in his right hand. At least he thought he did. He held to that notion until a searing pain overtakes the left side of his face, banishing any notion that his father had seen how very wrong he was. His father’s last words to him haunting him even in his sleep: “I would have never imagined a dishonorable traitor emerging from my own bloodline,” drowned out by his own screams of pain merging with the cries of fury as the spirits of his past lives took control. 

His eyes began to glow a brilliant shade of white as air began to whip around him, blowing the Fire Lord back against the wall and putting out the sacred flames that had surrounded the throne for generations. The wind continued to whip around him growing in speed until it lifted him off the ground before he extended his arms as the air whipped around him, destroying the room. The Fire Lord lying on the ground looked up at him in awe, pure fear in his eyes, as the conjured wind lifted Zuko out of the destroyed throne room and out into the raging tempest.

***

He woke up suddenly, and tried to sit up, but found himself restrained. He panicked and struggled against his restraints. He had to get out. He had to warn them of the danger. He couldn’t do that if he was restrained. He couldn’t see to the left of him. The entire left side of his face felt numb. He remembered what happened to him. How his - he couldn’t think about that right now. 

He wriggled and shifted, just enough to loosen the blankets he had been swaddled in. He managed to extract a hand from his confines and hissed at the sudden intrusion of cold air into the warm embrace of the blankets. He brought his hand up shakily to the left side of his face. It had been bandaged, tenderly. He explored the edge of the bandages to find a thick oil slathered on him, He gathered some on his fingertips and brought it to his nose, where he was met with a strong scent of various herbs causing him to cough, As his fingertips began to lose feeling, he figured that the ointment was why his face felt numb. 

He continued to wriggle out of the furs and blankets that had been wrapped around him, shifting slightly until the entire cocoon collapsed and he could finally escape. Finally free of his constraints, he allowed himself a chance to examine himself. His mind still fuzzy from, he couldn’t remember exactly what - he remembered falling, maybe he had hit his head - he dully noticed that he wasn’t wearing the reds, golds, and blacks native to the Fire Nation, his home. Former home now. He was however wearing very thick clothing. Blues and browns, rimmed with fur. It wasn’t his.

In that moment of clarity Zuko actually took the chance to look around him. He was in a dome made of ice, a small fire was burning at the center, a kettle idly sitting over it. His makeshift prison had been set close to it. He looked around, seeking out the familiar form of his long-time friend Druk. A deep sense of guilt and fear settling in as he couldn’t find him. He should have been easy to spot, he was a dragon after all.

He tried to get up, and stumbled, finding his legs weak, and his balance thrown off, unaccustomed to the many heavy layers that he was now surrounded in. He threw out a hand to steady himself, and leaned up against the wall using it to steady him. The sound of crunching snow drew his attention as a large hooded figure appeared out of nowhere, shocked at how Zuko had escaped from the furs, it dropped the bundle it had been holding

Zuko tried to make eye contact with where the figure’s eyes would have been if they hadn’t been covered. He slips slightly and the figure moves quickly towards him hand outstretched trying to catch him. But as he slips his head ducking down and the figure’s right hand darting out in front of them, it was too much like how he got his burn. 

He wasn’t sure what had happened, but Zuko was standing in an attack formation, legs apart in a half-squat, arm outstretched in a fist. The figure had dived to their left to avoid the fireball that had shot out of Zuko’s fist, and there was now a gaping hole out of the side of the ice building that he had been in. He looked at the figure for a split second before darting out of the newly created hole, and falling out into a snow pile on the street. 

Zuko was stuck in the snowpile, and flailed his arms and legs to try and get out of the suffocating snow pile. While he struggled the figure had stuck his head out of the hole before darting back into the building, and called out to several people. Zuko couldn’t quite make out what they had said, something about a patient and escaping. He calmed himself and stopped moving, calling out to his inner fire, like General Roku had taught him, to heat the air around him. The snow didn’t quite melt, but it was looser now, loose enough that Zuko could dig himself out of the snow bank. 

He had managed to get a good ten steps away before he had been tackled suddenly from his left side. He hadn’t even seen it coming. 

He tried to wrestle against his captor, but they were too strong, and he was very tired. He gave up quickly as his face was shoved into the snow for a few seconds. “Sokka, there’s no need to be rough with the kid, he’s already in poor enough shape as it is,” a voice called out. His captor - Sokka - gave out a small grunt of exertion as he rolled both of them over. Sokka was now on his back, arms and legs still wrapped around Zuko, effectively pinning Zuko in place, but now Zuko’s face was no longer in the snow, and he was no longer being crushed by Sokka’s weight. He was thankful for that, it had been getting hard to breathe.

“Hey, Kiki,” the figure who had argued on behalf of Zuko's ability to breathe groaned at the name as they pushed back their hood. Their hair was grey with age, and done up in braids and a bun, their face was wrinkled in a mix of worry and laugh lines. “I caught something of yours,” gesturing to Zuko with his chin and chuckling, Sokka seemed unbothered by Zuko’s weight on his chest. Sokka sat up, dragging Zuko up with him, and looked over at Kiki, and his eyes widened as he saw the singed fur on their shoulders. “Are you okay?”

Kiki grins and points at their shoulder, “Why this little thing, please I’ve had worse run-ins with a campfire. Although,” they offered a hand to Zuko to help him up. Zuko hesitated a second before grabbing it as Sokka’s grip on him loosened. “If I wanted to keep having fireballs shot at me, I wouldn’t have retired from fighting the ashmakers.” Kiki helped brush the snow off of Zuko as a small group of five warriors bearing shields and spears arrive, having escorted an old-lady and a young girl to the scene. 

The soldiers take position, forming a semi-circle around Zuko, shields up and spears pointed towards him. Kiki coughs and clears their throat, before giving Sokka a pointed look and gesturing at the warriors. Sokka shrugs as he orders them all to stand down. They all draw back their spears and stick them in the snow, pointed end pointed up, shields still held high as they maintained their defensive position. 

Zuko, finally free of Kiki’s ministrations, finally gets the chance to get a good look at the warriors. Although calling them warriors would have been immensely generous. They wore ill-fitting armors, it took him a few seconds to realize that it was all too big, the spears too long, the shields too tall. The armor and weapons were certainly made for adults, but the ones wielding them were everything but. One of them was no older than twelve, cheeks still round. Zuko was clearly the oldest amongst them. The realization hurt him in a way he didn’t expect, these children should be protected, not doing the protecting. 

He finds the young girl surveying the damage to the building. “It’s still structurally sound, I’m pretty sure,” she calls out to Kiki. Sokka agrees with her pointing out the lack of cracks, as well as the actual areas of load bearing that were untouched by the blast. Sokka steps back as the girl drops into a stance and slowly lifts her arms over her head, some of the snow melting into water and streaming up at the hole before freezing over. A waterbender then. “It’s all that I can do for now,” she apologizes to Kiki, “but I’ll put it on the list and Ruk and I will come around later to see if we can do more.”

“You’ve done plenty, I’ll see if I can work my own magic from the inside as well,” Kiki claps a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve been improving quite a lot, Katara.” She beamed at the compliment. “Come on,” they grabbed Zuko by the arm, with a grip much stronger than Zuko thought they possessed, and began dragging them back into the building, “Back to the blankets and fire with you.” Zuko didn’t have the energy to argue, and was unable to pull away.

“I think I’ll join you,” the old lady grabbed Zuko by his other arm and began to also pull him forward. “I brought soup.” He noticed she had a covered plate in her other hand, and his stomach grumbled at the mention of potential food. The old lady laughed as they dragged him up the stairs assuring him that there was plenty for him.

It wasn’t long before he had found himself swaddled again sitting in front of the fire an empty plate in his hands. His bandages had been freshly changed by Kiki, whom he discovered was also a waterbender, one that was trained in healing. And the old lady had begun to make tea. He wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve all of this, certainly not after nearly lighting Kiki’s face on fire, his stomach jerked at the thought of doing that to someone, even accidentally.

As soon as the tea was made, the old lady served him a cup, and they all sat down around the fire. Kiki and their guest began to eat, taking pieces of food directly from the pan over the fire, and serving themselves soup. Zuko sat still and waited for instructions. It was not until Kiki had gone for seconds that they noticed Zuko had not eaten a single thing.

“Something wrong, kid?” Kiki grumbled through a mouthful of a bun they had just torn into. They chewed thoughtfully, “Nothing here you like?”

Zuko paled at the implication that he had been being a poor guest. “No, I just didn’t know that I was allowed to get things directly from the pan,” each word carefully chosen so as to not convey any possible form of disrespect. He sat there quietly looking at his plate, avoiding eye contact as he waited for the decision.

The two Watertribesman looked baffled at that thought, before the old lady spoke. “It’s a communal meal, please feel free to take as much as you want,” she smiled kindly at Zuko, offering up one of the buns and holding it out to him, patiently waiting for him to take it.

He grabbed it and a few pieces of the other food that had been laid down before him. Kiki clucked his tongue “I thought firebenders burn through their calories. And you can’t be much older than Sokka, and he eats enough to keep a fisherman busy for a week.” Kiki reached over the fire and placed more food on Zuko’s plate, tripling the amount that had been there. They filled a bowl with soup, “Sokka and Katara didn’t rescue you from the ice, and I didn’t spend the last few days tending to your fever, to have you starve to death under my roof.” They handed the bowl of soup over to Zuko. “Now eat like your life depends on it, kid, because it may very well.”

Zuko ate. He certainly knew that in his condition he wouldn’t be able to take Kiki in a fight, and he owed them that much, if what they had just said was true, they had basically saved his life. And they were right, firebending did burn through calories quickly, and if he’d been lain up in bed with a fever that would mean that he had been going through very many calories very quickly. So Zuko ate. It was good food, maybe not flavorful in the spicy way he was used to, but not bland. It was hearty and filling, and warm, and it was exactly what Zuko needed. The soup in particular was easily the best thing available.

“You’re spoiling, the Kid and you hardly know him,” Kiki chuckled as they poured themselves a second helping of soup.

“He’s not the only one getting spoiled it seems,” the old lady glared at Kiki’s second bowl, as they stuck their tongue out at her. “We also can’t keep calling him ‘Kid’ -”

“That’s not gonna stop me.”

She glared at them. “Proper introductions are in order.” She put down her plate and bowl and made eye contact with him, “What’s your name?”

Zuko didn’t answer, and instead chose to stuff his face with another one of the fluffy buns. They had told him to eat after all, he was simply following their orders.

“I expected as much. My name is Kanna, although you can call me Gran-Gran, most people do. And this grumpy crackpot,” she poked Kiki in the gut, “that you have had the misfortune of staying with is Kikaro.”

“I thought their name was Kiki,” Zuko piped suddenly, dropping his soup bowl. 

“Chief, I am going to have to kill that grandson of yours one of these days, consider this my official declaration of intent.” 

“You’ll have to excuse dear _Kiki_ ,” Kanna teased, “They get in a righteous mood whenever anyone brings up the lovely nickname that my grandson made for them when he was still a toddler,” Kanna giggled. “It’s stuck around, despite Kikaro’s best efforts to squash it out. In fact it got so bad one time, I remember …”

Zuko didn’t understand why Kanna would so readily tell such intimate details about the lives of her children and grandchildren. He learned much about Sokka, her grandson. and his knack for somehow getting in _and_ out of situations which any other person wouldn’t have been; and Katara’s, her granddaughter, knack for waterbending in the opposite direction, often times freezing walking passerbys; and about the one time that Bato and Hakoda (her sons?) dressed up as a polar bear dog to scare her, and the how they were subsequently put on dirty dish detail for the entire town for a week. Each story building upon the last as Kikaro and Gran-Gran attempted to outdo each other’s stories, and the stiff awkwardness that had permeated the meal earlier began to fade as the hearthfire burned steadily to warm them and fight against the cold.

For the first time, since he was a child, Zuko felt warm and comfortable and at peace with the adults surrounding him, not needing to rigorously maintain his posture and the manners and persona of a prince. He was surrounded by laughter and smiles, and even though it was surrounded by ice and snow, no place had ever felt warmer. So this is what a home feels like.

Zuko waited until after Kikaro sat down after Gran-Gran had produced what they called ‘a poor rendition of a bear dog howl’ and Gran-Gran had challenged them into giving a proper demonstration to remind them both of his existence. As the laughter died down he whispered his name into the tea cup and hoped that would be enough to appease his guilty conscience at not having answered Gran-Gran’s question, a much deeper part of him hoping that his whisper had been lost in the crackling of the fire.

“Zuko?” She asked. No such luck.

“Zuko, Zuko, Zuko.” They rolled it back and forth on their tongue getting a taste for it. “It’s a good strong name I think.” He didn’t realize that he had so desperately been craving their approval until they had said that, it felt easing, like he could make a life here if he really wanted to. A thrilling thought.

“Well, now that the meal is done, we can actually discuss what I came here for.” Gran-Gran shifted, just enough straightening her back and shoulders, all pretense of comfort and gentleness lost in an instant. Her blue eyes hardened, playfulness lost. This was a woman who had looked death in the face, and death quivered back under her steely gaze. One who had the strength to not only make a home in the ice and snow, but to ensure that her people would thrive. Royalty or not, Lady Kanna was a leader to be respected.

“As acting Chief, I have come to inform you that the Council will meet tomorrow to decide your fate. The entire South Pole is on edge with an ash-” she cuts herself off. Coldness begins to seep into the room as the fire begins to wane under the weight of the will of Lady Kanna. “A firebender in our midst. The ice here has a long history, and bears its scars from the last time the Fire Nation _visited_ us. My people have suffered enough, and your outburst earlier will not bode well during your trial. Kikaro is unharmed, but should you take any step or have so much as an inclination, to endanger anyone else in the South Pole, I will personally demonstrate the brutal nature this landscape can have, regardless of what the Council decides. I am to be understood.” The finality of her last statement left no room for argument, but she waited with eyebrows raised, daring Zuko to question her. 

He knew better than to. He knew the consequences that came with questioning. His face was still bandaged from his last attempt at questioning things, and he had no doubt that the Lady Kanna would be able to hold true to her threat, her frail body aside.

The Lady Kanna stands, accepting Kikaro’s help. “You are expected to present yourself to the Council under the midday sun, where your intentions and actions will be questioned. But before I leave, you must answer me this one question. Did you come alone? Truthfully.”

Zuko took in a breath to steady himself, having one’s life threatened tends to knock the wind from you. “I didn’t bring any other people with me.” He thought of his companion, Druk, likely lost to the frigid waters of the South, there was little hope of finding him alive if they hadn’t already found him by now. And people would certainly have mentioned the presence of a dragon. Lady Kanna turned to leave, thinking Zuko finished. “Wait,” he cried out. “I didn’t bring any other people with me,” he repeated, “but I did not come alone.”

“How could you come with someone if you just said you brought no one with you?” Kikaro asked him, Lady Kanna kept her back turned.

“My companion is not exactly a person,” he hesitated, not knowing how to put it. “That’s not to say he isn’t smart and capable like a person, just that he isn’t one.”

“So what exactly is he then?” Lady Kanna turned her head to look at Zuko.

“A dragon.”

The Lady Kanna hummed thoughtfully. “Thank you for your honesty.” She began to leave again. “Oh and Kikaro, you are also expected to present in front of the Council tomorrow as well.” They huffed in acknowledgement as Kanna left, the wooden door thudding behind her. 

Zuko was confused, and when Zuko was confused he liked to pace. It helped him think.

He didn’t know where he stood with Lady Kanna and that worried him. What worried him more was that he still needed to get to the Southern Air Temple and warn them of the impending raid. The Fire Lord would certainly move plans along more quickly now that Zuko was on the run. He’d already been here for a few days at least, that would mean that the Air Nomads would have less time to escape. He hoped the fire hawk that he had sent forward with a message before escaping on Druk had reached the Western Air Temple. Druk. He’d been so concerned with other things that he hadn’t even given a single thought to poor Druk. Druk who had carried him in the middle of a storm; Druk who had fallen into the ice with him; Druk who couldn’t survive in the cold; Druk who he’d likely never see again.

He stopped pacing, trying very hard not to shake. He couldn’t break down right now, there were people who needed him to be strong. He could grieve later, couldn’t he?

“Cut it out, kid,” Kikaro piped at him, knocking him out of his spiral. His face must have shown his confusion. “You keep nearly putting out the fire.”

Zuko hadn’t noticed that the fire had continued to dim while he had been busying himself with worrying about, well, everything. Father would be displeased at his inability to control himself, only a child would let their emotions get the better of them and let their power express itself in such an unintentional and unrestrained manner. He coaxed the fire back to life, at Kikaro’s request, they whistled in astonishment. Bowing in apology, Zuko seated himself at the foot of the fire and began practicing the breathing exercises General Roku had drilled into him since - what felt like - birth.

“Since you’re gonna be here until tomorrow at least, might as well put you to work,” Kikaro put a hand on his shoulder, getting Zuko’s attention. “We’re going to boil these,” they pointed at a large pile of strips of cloth, “always good to have some extra things we can use as bandages on hand. So get that fire nice and hot while I get some fresh water, think you can do that, Zuko?” It was the first time Kikaro had used his name, he nodded. He needed something to get his mind off of everything.

They settled into a comfortable silence, the two of them, Zuko tending the fire and Kikaro boiling bandages. Kikaro left occasionally to tend to other matters, and brought back food which they handed to Zuko silently. He was thankful, firebending did take a lot out of you. It was after the fifth or sixth batch of bandages that Zuko’s eyes began to droop, still tired from the sickness. Kikaro took notice, despite Zuko’s best attempts to stifle his yawns, declaring it time to call it a night and ignoring Zuko’s protests - “I may not look it, but I am old kid,” they joked ruffling Zuko’s hair - they began to set up the mat that Zuko had woken up in, tossing a bunch of blankets and furs on it. 

Zuko only noticed the one mat. “Where are you going to sleep?”

“I’m touched by your concern, but you don’t need to worry about me,” they grinned. “I don’t have it set up during the day, since it takes up a lot of room,” they were pulling out a long strip of cloth and attaching it to hooks that had been built into a set of ice poles that had been set about a foot of the wall. They clipped in a final piece and flourished at the hammock that they had built. “I never could go back to sleeping on a pallet once I got back from serving in the Sea Wolves, didn’t feel right. Y’know?” They continued to get ready for bed, tossing another blanket at Zuko as if the last five were not enough. “I think you’re a bit old to get tucked in, so I’ll trust you’re able to see yourself to bed?”

Zuko nodded, and layed down on the mat, wrapping himself in one blanket, and seeing that it was not enough to fight back the cold, grabbed the many other blankets that he had snubbed. Kiki laughed, wishing him good night and climbed into the hammock with more grace and dexterity than Zuko thought they possessed. Their gentle snores soon filled the room as Zuko looked up at the ceiling, staring at the inky blackness until sleep overcame him. For once, he dreamt of nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part of what I'd still consider Episode One, because it's still longer than I anticipated. Episode 1 is looking to be 4 parts right now so approximately 20k words, which is absolutely ridiculous in my opinion, but again this is what happens when people let me write things and don't tell me to stop. 
> 
> This poor boy, this poor poor boy.
> 
> Comments are appreciated because I like building things together and weaving in snippets so feel free to leave things; the more the merrier.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you still haven't taken a look, this is Inspired by this post (https://aboutiroh.tumblr.com/post/623482349267697664/good-ho-mens-cubedleo-uberguber89) and too many late night ramblings between me and my friends, who are gracious enough to let me just them random things and respond to me with a patience that knows no bounds.

Katara had a long list of duties to attend to, and because they were perpetually short staffed it continually got longer. It also didn’t help that she was perpetually followed by a gaggle of children following her around trying to catch a glimpse of her waterbending, not that she minded an audience, more that they had a habit of perpetually getting underfoot. But a leader would never yell at children, so she didn’t. Although there were times when she would have to remind herself of that - especially when they would accidentally stop under the large ice structures that she was suspending in place while Ruk worked on adding material.

  
Ruk appreciated her decorum, but he had no reservations in telling the children to kindly get out of the way. He was the only other waterbender that joined Katara on her rounds of fixing the various parts of the South Pole; she once asked Kiki to join her and they laughed, before politely refusing her and explaining that they were needed at the healer’s hut full-time so people could easily find them in the case of an emergency. The pair of them had been called to the Northern edge of Pole, to deal with the aftermath of Sokka’s flooding.

  
A few of the locks had suffered damage in the recent flood, and had started making very suspicious and concerning cracking noises. Fearing that the cracks would grow if left unattended, causing another minor flood in the warehouse district, the workers had sent up a report up to Katara, urging her to make it a priority. After arguing with a few citizens whose requests had originally been on the docket today before getting bumped to tomorrow in order to deal with the “looming crisis of a potential flood that could spread to even the Southern half of the Pole” (she may have embellished that a little bit) she and Ruk found themselves overlooking the massive structures that waterbenders of old had carefully crafted years ago.

  
Seeing the immensity of it first hand, she understood why Sokka was so enamored with it. While she may not understand his obsession and awe with figuring out the inner machinations of it - poring over the blueprints and scrolls that he had found with a gusto that Katara wished he would apply to his actual work, although his intimate knowledge of the blueprints had proven useful today - she could understand the awe he felt as she saw the results of such masterful waterbending. It was impressive, even though it had fallen into disuse with an abhorrent lack of waterbenders to keep the waterways at the proper levels.

  
“I think this is the place.” Her thoughts were interrupted as she bumped into Ruk. She had been so lost in thought she hadn’t realized that he had stopped in front of her. She looked up at the immense ice wall before her, it had been smoothed out and the symbol of the Water Tribe - a crescent moon with ocean waves inscribed in a circle - had been carved out of the ice face before melding back into the unshapen ice cliffs. She tore her eyes away to look at the papers that Sokka had hastily shoved into her hands before he dashed off to help with the construction of the new pair of watchtowers that he had petitioned for with a promise to meet her. A small section at the bottom left had been circled and a note (illegible to all but her) had been scribbled: Tunnel entrance here.

  
She held up the scroll, comparing the drawing to the monument that stood before her, looking for the identifying mark, a pair of scratches that would easily be ignored. Her eyes scanned over the ice face before - there, she spotted the mark that Sokka had very enthusiastically drawn attention to with more arrows than was reasonably necessary.  
“The entrance should be here,” she walked up and knocked on the icewall where the tunnel to the inside of the dam would start. Ruk nodded as she stepped aside letting him handle working with ice, he was better at it than she was - though he insists that she is getting better at it. He carefully places the lantern that he had been carrying down, plants one leg in front of the other and carefully brings his arms down as part of the icewall melts into an arched doorway, the light of day streaming in before giving way to inky blackness.

  
She rolled up the blueprints and stuck them in her bag, reaching in for a flint to light the lantern. Holding up the lantern she entered the long dark tunnel, Ruk trailing closely behind. She stopped as she heard a soft crackle that she associated with ice growing, turning to see him close the entrance behind them. “Don’t want any tiger seals to take up residence here,” he said, grabbing the lantern as he passed her.

  
He held the lantern up highly and the icy walls of the tunnel glowed in the reflecting light. It took Katara a while to notice that the way that the light was being reflected was not how she expected it to be reflected off of a flat wall. She examined the walls, noticing bumps and grooves, clearly made intentionally as she noticed the tell-tale marks of a chisel on ice. She ran her hand along one particular groove as she recognized the outline of a fish. She stepped back and looked at the walls, suddenly seeing the intricate reliefs that spanned both sides of the tunnel running as far as the light cast, and for much longer.

  
She recognized some of the figures from the stories that mom and Gran-Gran would tell her and Sokka when they were younger: the woman in the moon; the dragon in the stars; the wolf spirit of the South. And right alongside the myths was the history of her people, going back to when waterbenders learned the craft from the Moon and Ocean spirits. It was beautiful.

  
“Yeah, it sure is,” Ruk replied as he stopped to allow Katara the chance to catch up to him. She must have said that last part out loud.

  
“Does everybody know about this place? About this?” She gestured at the carvings in the ice, now retelling of the founding of the New Moon Celebration that they had held with their cousins from the North before the outbreak of the war, as they continued down the tunnel.

  
“I think so, at least at one point. I remember hearing about them as a kid, but that was almost twenty years ago now. Things have changed. But the entire history of us can be found in these walls, even the parts we might not want to remember. Every generation at the end of its time adds to the walls and tells the stories of what happened during their time.” He stops for a second as the tunnel widens to a large chamber. “I pray to the spirits that the carvings of your generation tell of the end of the war.”

  
He set the lantern down in the center so that it could illuminate the entire room before gesturing towards the crack that had been reported. “Seems like we found our culprit.” Katara took out one of the waterskins that she’d slung over her shoulder in the morning, and offered up to Ruk, who shook his head. “This looks like a two-person job, so you’re going to join me. And you’re also in charge of making the opening to let us out.” Katara agreed, she needed the practice. Ruk demonstrated the move twice for her, and then had her mimic his form, making small corrections to her posture and placement before nodding in approval, content with her form.

  
Uncorking their waterskins, they both moved in sync mirroring each other’s movements as two streams of water from their waterskin reached the wall, flattened and sinked into the iced filling the cracks before freezing the cracks shut. Ruk walked up and tapped on the ice. Pleased with the solid noise he declared that it was unlikely that there would be any further cracks along this wall, unless there was another unexpected flood. He chuckled at the joke as they started heading towards an exit that Soka had also marked for them.

  
“You know Sokka meant well.” Katara felt the need to defend her brother, since he wasn’t here to defend himself.  
“I certainly wouldn’t have thought of the combat applications of lock breaking, I’ll give him that much.”  
“No. I mean, he didn’t mean to break the lock at all. He was trying to figure out a way to control it without using waterbending.”

  
“Wait, really?” Ruk looked completely shocked and slightly impressed at the thought, Katara thought smughly. Her brother was a lot smarter than a lot of people gave him credit for, not that she’d ever admit to him of course. At least not aloud.

  
“Yeah, he actually got pretty close to it too, before the, I think he said gearbox, fell apart, shooting a piece of bone into the lock that actually caused the cracking to begin. He thankfully managed to get a good chunk of the water to flow where it needed to before the lock broke down completely.”

  
“You mean he might actually be able to get the system to work without waterbenders?”

  
“I’m not exactly sure, a lot of it went over my head, if I’m being completely honest. Also Sokka explains it much better than I do. If you ask him about it I swear he won’t stop talking until you throw a snowball at his face. And even then that might not work, speaking from experience.” As they came to the end of the tunnel, she mimicked the movements that Ruk had done to create an opening in the ice. Her doorway wasn’t as smooth as Ruk’s had been, but there was definite improvement from the last time she had tried, and when she closed the ice behind them, you could hardly tell that anything had happened.

  
The exit point Sokka had directed them towards had been rather close to the center of town; she should have expected that, Sokka always had a tendency to plan things so that things were easier for everyone involved. He must have heard her talking about how she and Ruk were needed to fix some hole or other near Central Square. She was surprised that they had managed to travel so far into town through the tunnels, it felt like they had barely walked at all, although that might have been because she had been distracted at studying the carvings in the ice.  
She checked the position of the sun, still plenty of time to meet Sokka at the fountain before having to report for the Elder Council meeting today. She and Ruk went over the jobs that they had decided to take today, there were only a few, since they had anticipated that the fix on the Northern end of town would take much longer than it actually had. Ruk nodded at his assignments, before also taking the list of things that Katara had set aside for herself. Before she could argue, Ruk simply said she had been working hard, and that the Council Meeting might take longer because of the “new arrivals” so he’d take care of it today.

  
You’re still a kid, go do kid things. Throw a snowball at your brother or something. He’d all but pushed her towards the fountain where Sokka was aggressively waving at her to get her attention, as if he wasn’t the only one there. Sokka’s enthusiasm was appreciated however as he pulled her into a hug and started asking her questions about the dam that were too technical for her to answer. He was perfectly distracted as he didn’t notice the small mound of snow that she had been building behind him. After being embraced for what she considered on the border of far too long for what was acceptable in public, she gently shoved him off of her, directly into the snow pile.

  
He looked at her, eyes asking her “Really, this is what it has come to? Betrayed by my own sister.” She shrugged the accusing look off, “Ruk told me to throw a snowball at you, so I did. Simply following orders.”

  
“This isn’t a snowball,” he furiously brushed snow off of his hair, before extending a hand up, to get Katara to help him up.

  
“Meaningless details.” She took his hand and pulled him up, brushing snow off his back where he couldn’t reach. She wasn’t heartless. “Now you told me that you had something to show me, and then I can tell you about the ice carvings under the dam.”

  
That had certainly gotten his attention and he very quickly brought his right hand up to his lips and gave out a loud piercing whistle. On cue, a large red-brown blur appeared on one of the rooftops, and came scampering down, charging directly at Sokka. Realizing that he was about to get tackled by the full force of an excited dragon, Sokka threw up his arms yelling at it to please stop and to have mercy. No such luck as the dragon pounced on Sokka, knocking him right back into the snow pile Katara had made. Sokka was pinned beneath the dragon, as it settled on him making itself comfortable before a soft rumble came from it.

  
“Is it purring?”

  
“Oh sure that’s what you care about when your brother is being crushed by a massive fire-breathing dragon, yes you are,” the last bit was cooed at the dragon as Sokka tried to scratch the side of the dragon’s head. This earned him a few licks to the face from the dragon, and Katara’s ribs beginning to hurt from laughter. After she finally caught her breath, she joined Sokka in stroking the dragon’s neck, earning quite a few enthusiastic thumps of its tail against the snow.

  
She now noticed that the dragon was wearing what could crudely be described as a coat, and would more accurately be described as a bunch of furs tied onto its body and held in place by a net. It covered most of the body and still allowed the dragon mostly free range movement. She noticed that its wings were pinned to its body with the net, although not very tightly so as the net wouldn’t do any damage. It was borderline genius.

  
“Admiring my work?” Sokka had noticed her looking at the coat as he had now managed to get the dragon on its back so that he could scratch its belly. “I told Gran-Gran the dragon should probably be kept warm, and she joked that we should swaddle it in blankets, and well she wasn’t wrong. It’s maybe not the prettiest thing, but it gets the job done, doesn’t it? Who’s a good dragon? You’re a good dragon.” Sokka had gone back to cooing at the dragon who was absolutely loving all the attention it was receiving.

  
It was ridiculous the whole thing. The dragon wrapped in furs and behaving remarkably well, nothing on fire. And Sokka was playing with it like he’d raised it himself. She noticed the parts that weren’t covered in fur were shivering and moved to stand close to it to provide it with some warmth. It was odd, here was the creature that was so often used as the representation of the Fire Nation, wrapped in the furs that Katara had grown up sleeping on, struggling to find warmth, purring under her brother’s hands. It looked like the lost polar bear puppy Sokka had brought home once, crying because it had gotten on the wrong end of a sharpspine fish. It was so difficult to imagine it as having the capacity for death and destruction, and snuggled up next to her brother it looked cute. It just looked lost.  
She turned towards the central compound where the Council was assembling as she saw Kikaro and Gran-Gran leading Zuko in, bandages on his face clearly visible. Not a monster, just hurt. And lost.

  
***

  
The Council was not what Zuko had expected. It looked nothing at all like the meetings he had attended while training to be the Fire Lord, there was no one person that everything was directed towards, although many looked up to Lady Kanna for approval. What was most baffling was the age of many of the council members: while there were many that were old, close to Lady Kanna’s age or older, there were quite a few who were very young. The man who had reported on their food stores and the recent fishing trip was probably only a year or two older than Zuko; the boy that had tackled Zuko - Sokka, Lady Kanna’s grandson - was younger than him, and was apparently the leader of the warriors stationed at the South Pole; the girl that spoke for the waterbenders and their duties, was even younger, and more opinionated than her brother Sokka.

  
Zuko was only half paying attention during most of the meeting, but he had learned several things. There were so many things that needed to be done, more than what the waterbenders could fix on their own. Despite how many of the older people teased Sokka and Katara for being so young, their ideas were taken at face value and treated as if it were an idea that was presented by any of the others. The Lady Kanna would smile whenever either of her grandchildren would make a suggestion that made absolute perfect sense, beaming with pride that the whole council unintentionally picked up.

  
It was strange how quickly another member of the council would provide aid for another unprompted, problems were presented, solutions were argued, resources promised and requisitioned, next topic. One remarked that there was a family whose oldest child had broken his leg making them unable to bring in food, another stated that they would make adjustments and make sure food was provided, and a third had the family added to the list of people the healers visited. Katara complained of the amount of work she and Ruk had in rebuilding the wall along the North, Sokka offered up troops in the guise of a team building exercise. Back, forth, problem handled enough to move on to the next one. These solutions wouldn’t be long-lasting, Zuko thought, but they would be enough to handle the problems of today to make sure they wouldn’t be tomorrow’s problems too.

  
Sokka was finishing up reporting on the most recent fishing party’s success in gathering the supplies they needed to replenish the stock that had been lost in the recent flooding incident - he smiled sheepishly at the mention of that as several council members had shot him nasty looks - when Zuko tuned back into the conversation as he heard Lady Kanna speak.

  
“While the party was successful in bringing back food, it also brought something else back. This leads us to the next topic, what exactly to do with, well, him,” she motions towards Zuko. He only now realizes that all the people in the room had turned to look at him, all the attention made Zuko’s skin crawl and his burn itch.

  
His hand is nearly scratching at the bandage at his face when a sharp yell cuts through the room. “Hey,” stopping him mid scratch. “I spent too long wrapping your head for you to undo all of my hard work. Least you can do is respect that.” Zuko could now recognize Kikaro’s gruff voice anywhere, and turned to look for them. Spotting them he gave them a quick bow, apologizing for his actions. This earned him a laugh from Kikaro, “See Sokka, why can’t you respect your elders?” Sokka glared at Zuko, and he was suddenly filled with a dread of having done something wrong.

  
“Maybe he’d treat you like an elder, if you did anything worth respecting,” Lady Kanna interjected, causing the whole chamber to erupt into laughter, Kikaro themself included. These people were odd, but Zuko’s dread was gone, odd considering that they were about to deliberate his very existence. Lady Kanna wiped a tear from her eye as she turned to look at Zuko again, clearing her throat as the chamber silenced immediately at her cue.

  
“My grandson and granddaughter while out with the fishing party got separated from the group, Spirits know how,” she eyed Sokka, who shrugged. “During this separation they found a Fire Nation citizen trapped in the ice and rescued him, bringing him back here unconscious as they found him. During the last week, he has been staying with Kikaro, who had been treating him for potential pneumonia, amongst other injuries that he had been found with,” she motioned at the burns on his face, that were the most visible of his injuries. “Yesterday, in a moment of panic after waking up for the first time since the discovery of his body, he firebent a hole in the wall of one of our buildings-” Zuko flinched and Kikaro moved to speak angry at the accusation, until Lady Kanna held up her hand in a motion to stop. “Before being calmed down. No one was hurt.”

  
Kikaro accepted the adjust statement and calmed down, though their eyes were still hard, daring anyone to speak ill of the boy they had just nursed back to health. Zuko hadn’t expected someone to defend him. Much less the person he had nearly lit on fire.

  
Nobody said anything and Lady Kanna continued, “This is what we know of him. We will, as our laws dictate, give him the chance to speak for himself. You are expected to answer our questions honestly. We will use your answers to determine your fate here. If you are found to be lying, the Council will automatically rescind any decision we make, brand you a traitor, and banish you to be judged by the icy winds of our landscape. Have I been understood?”  
It was the first time that anyone in the meeting had directly addressed him, while he had gotten stares, glares, even looks of pity from some, Lady Kanna had directly spoken to him. And expected him to speak back. When she had told him last night that the council would question his intentions at the meeting, it hadn’t registered that he would actually be allowed to speak on his behalf.

  
He opens his mouth several times, unsure of how exactly to respond to her, not knowing what they wanted to say when Sokka spoke before him. “You won’t catch fish, even with your mouth gaping open like that.” Zuko snapped his mouth shut as Katara gave Sokka a firm poke in the gut. “I was just trying to-” Katara poked him again, shutting him up.

  
“Have I been understood?” Lady Kanna repeats herself, prompting Zuko to respond.

  
“Yes, you have been understood. I will answer to the best of my ability all the questions that you ask of me.” Lady Kanna mulls over his answer carefully, before nodding in approval, and the questioning begins.

  
Some of the questions were easy. His name? Why had he been traveling South? Some of the questions he didn’t know the answer to. How did he get stuck in the iceberg? How long had he been there? Some questions he didn’t want to answer. How had he gotten hurt in the first place? Why had he been traveling South? What was the nature of the information he had to deliver to the Air Nomads? Some of the questions had been unexpected. What’s the name of your dragon? Did you like the soup last night? Did you have enough blankets? Some questions weren’t even asked but hung down on him. Why had he flinched when she had said that he had thrown fire at Kikaro? Why was he being protected by them? Why are you really here?

  
At one point, Zuko coughs, his throat dry from talking so much in the unfamiliar cold. They give him water. It was unexpected. The questions stop slowly as they determine that Zuko is not willing to reveal anything else to them, but satisfied with the responses that he had given them so far. He had not lied, and he had been upfront about telling them that he wouldn’t say anything else on a particular matter. They had respected his wishes. It had settled into a comfortable exchange, as slowly the only one still asking him questions was Lady Kanna.

  
She too tired, eventually, as she asked him her final question: “What do you think of how we do things here?”

  
Zuko mulled the question over, staring at the cup he had been given. It was the same as the ones that the council members had to their right, except for Lady Kanna. She didn’t have one, because her cup was the one that he had been given. “It’s different, but I don’t mean that in a bad way. I didn’t expect to find kindness here, and you all have been nothing but kind to me, even if I’ve done little to deserve it.” He looked towards Kikaro as he said that, they nodded in acknowledgement. He continued, turning towards Lady Kanna, “And how you resolved the problems you presented to each other was more disorganized than any method I would expect to work. But you resolved in minutes what it would take the Fire Lord’s advisors days to solve back at the Palace, and even then those solutions wouldn’t -” he saw a glint in Lady Kanna’s eyes.

  
He had revealed something he hadn’t meant to. He had fallen into her trap. He kept talking anyway. “Those solutions wouldn’t have resolved some of the problems presented today so thoroughly as the solutions that you all presented together.” He met her eyes.

  
“A very diplomatic answer.” She knew. “Community has always been one of our greatest strengths.” She knew. “Full members of the council will now convene to make a decision.” She kept her eyes on him as she announced to the rest of the room. “ Everyone else, Out.”

  
Slowly, most of the people begin to file out of the building. Kikaro manages to come up to Zuko on their way towards where Lady Kanna was assembling those that could vote. They gave Zuko a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, and Zuko could’ve sworn that they had whispered I’ll do what I can to him, before heading off. He stood still, not sure if his presence was wanted during the council’s deliberation, and not wanting to disappear if they wanted him to do something in particular.

  
His answer came in the form of an argument that the Lady Kanna was having with her granddaughter. Zuko edged in closer to hear as he heard the sound of his name. He’d only manage to catch the tail end of the argument as Katara angrily trodded to the door. Sokka was attempting to appease his grandmother and argue that his sister deserved a vote.

  
“She has a point, you know. It’s not fair to exclude us from these decisions if the expectation is that we participate as Council Members in all other aspects of our lives.”

  
“I know, Sokka. I know. It hurts me to say this, but this is a decision that adults need to make. You two already carry burdens far larger than what you should. Let us carry the weight of this decision.” She puts a hand on her grandson’s shoulder. “Let me lighten the load as long as I can.”

  
Sokka sighs, but ultimately nods in agreement. He pulls in his grandmother for a hug. “She’s not going to be happy, but I’ll see what I can do.” Lady Gran-Gran thanks him, as he turns towards Zuko. He grabs Zuko by the arm and pulls him towards the exit where Katara was waiting. “Come on, she all but basically sent the kids away.”  
“I’m not a kid,” Zuko responds dully as Sokka drags him from the council chambers.

  
“Yeah, and I’m the Avatar. You wanted to see your dragon, right?” Zuko perks up at the mention of Druk, he felt guilty at not having thought about him earlier, he had been busy dealing with other things. Sokka noticed that Zuko was no longer dragging his feet. “Druk, right?” Zuko nods, surprised that Sokka had remembered the name, then of course Sokka was the person who had asked the name of his dragon in the first place. “He’s been staying with us while you were with Kiki.”

  
As they pass Katara, Sokka grabs her by the arm too, and starts pulling her along beside Zuko as Sokka seems content to keep talking at his captive audience. She seems more used to being dragged around by her older brother and settles into a position so that she’s sliding rather than being dragged. He waves to try and get her attention, smiling in an attempt to introduce himself, but decides against speaking as he sees the utter face of disgust, contempt, and disappointment that Katara gives him. Instead, he chooses to resign himself to whatever fate Sokka had in store for them - apparently, he had saved his life once already, shouldn’t be too much to trust him with his life again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to @eringeosphere and @DragonDrawer28 for pointing out the wonky spacing. I think I fixed it this time around, but please let me know if I haven't. Thanks so much for all the comments so far, I really appreciate it. I hope you like it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you still haven't taken a look, this is Inspired by this post (https://aboutiroh.tumblr.com/post/623482349267697664/good-ho-mens-cubedleo-uberguber89) and too many late night ramblings between me and my friends, who are gracious enough to let me just them random things and respond to me with a patience that knows no bounds.

Sokka knew that Katara was annoyed that she had not been able to sit on the council to make a decision. Sokka was also annoyed, but that was neither here nor there. Sokka also knew that the guy that he and Katara had so carefully saved a week ago was on the verge of freaking out. And so Sokka decided to do what he does best, distract everyone.

He ends up dragging them both towards the town center, where they had left Druk when the Council meeting had started. Katara and Sokka had left him wrapped around the fountain that had long sat empty, disused. His head popped up as they approached, and he immediately began to shake in excitement upon spotting Sokka dragging Zuko behind him. Sokka immediately let go of both Zuko and Katara, spreading his arms wide to welcome snuggles from Druk.

Druk took the invitation and immediately perked and practically flew towards the trio. Right past Sokka, ignoring his open arms, in favor of tackling Zuko, and wrapping himself entirely around his friend. Immediately moving to nuzzle Zuko’s face as soon as Zuko gave him permission. Sokka had never seen Druk be so affectionate in the week he had spent with them. His jealousy fizzles as Druk begins to lick Zuko’s face excitedly as Zuko tries to protect himself with his arms.

“Druk, no!” Lick. “You know that this doesn’t wash out easily.” Lick. “These aren’t even my clothes, Druk please.” Sokka is doubling down with laughter, and Katara has even started to smile at Zuko’s distress. “This is such an undignified position,” Zuko yells. Sokka sputters as he drops to his knees, sides hurting, even Katara’s laughing harder now. Sokka manages to make eye contact with Druk before Druk decides to take advantage of Sokka’s keeled over position to let go of Zuko and tackle Sokka to the ground.

Which is how he finds himself pinned beneath Druk, yet again. He should probably expand his playbook so that he could have plans that didn’t end in him trapped beneath a creature in his attempts to make his sister feel better. But his sister is laughing, and that means that this is a successful plan. Zuko even manages to meek out a weak giggle. He’d call this plan a rousing success, as he’s already figured out the spot to scratch on Druk so that he could wriggle out.

“I haven’t laughed this hard since, well since Dad and Bato left. I also didn’t realize that sourpusses could laugh.” She pokes at Zuko who swats her hand away with reflexes neither of them had expected.

“I can laugh, but only at funny things.”

“But I’m hilarious.” Sokka whines, as Zuko shakes his head at him, ashamed to admit it, and Katara laughs even harder. Katara is still laughing when Sokka throws a snowball at her - revenge for laughing at him, and for pushing him into the snow bank earlier. He starts a fight he knows he’ll lose but he takes his inevitable defeat with the grace and dignity of a true Southern Water Tribe Warrior. And by that he means immediately ending up in the fetal position and crying out for mercy. Katara needs an easy win right now, and a snowball fight was always something she would win. He’d lose a million snowball fights if it would make her feel better. That’s what he tells himself as Katara helps him up. You could always count on her for that, and he shakes off the snow.

“Remind me again why I am always the one that gets wet when you play with magic water?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” Katara sticks her tongue out at him, and he can’t help but burst out into giggling again. It’s nice, it’s been a while since he was able to laugh this easily.

They settle into a comfortable silence as they settle around Druk. The heat the dragon gives off is a welcome respite from the cold, and Sokka quickly finds himself rubbing his face against the warmed furs surrounding Druk. It is a comfortable place, and one Sokka could see himself staying in for the foreseeable future. He’s halfway to a comfortable nap when Zuko’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Do you guys mind if I ask you a question?”

Sokka groans before answering “You just did,” sarcastically. Zuko remains silent, as if he had taken Sokka’s response literally. He relents a little, the guy did just have to deal with all their questions, not to mention Gran-Gran’s particular brand of questioning which she reserves solely for those perceived as potential threats - and Sokka now understands the stories from Gran-Gran’s past. “Yeah, you can ask us questions, it’s only fair.” How bad could the questions be?

“What happened the last time the Fire Nation was here?” Katara froze halfway through petting Druk. Sokka didn’t know exactly how to respond. “I know it wasn’t good. The Lady Kanna mentioned it in passing, but I don’t recall any such attack being ordered on the South Pole. Although it wouldn’t be the first time I wasn’t told something.” Zuko whispers that last sentence, but Sokka hears it, clear as crystal. There’s a sadness there, not disbelief, but the feeling of knowing you’re about to be disappointed by the truth you already suspected but hadn’t confirmed yet.

He looks over at Katara, she had paled at the mere mention of that day. He bites his lip, considering the many options that lay before him. What idiocy had possessed him to let Zuko ask him questions. Questions could hurt. Or more accurately, the answers could hurt. He chooses the words very carefully, mulling over the weight of each word before settling with: “It’s not a day we like to remember.”

Zuko nods, “I understand, but I need to know. I-” he hesitates slightly before shaking himself and continuing. “I need to know what they - what we did.”

Sokka gulps heavily, looking over at Katara, who had settled her hand on Druk. Her eyes are glazed over as she speaks. “We call it the ‘Day of Black Snow,’ it was almost ten years ago.” Zuko quickly pales at the admission, it was hard to believe that he could grow even paler.

Sokka grabs Zuko by the shoulder and does his best impression of Gran-Gran’s intimidation face and looks into Zuko’s eye. Gran-Gran once told him that in order to tell if someone is lying is to look them deep in their eyes and trust the feelings in your gut. He squints a little bit, but Zuko doesn’t recoil under his gaze. He looks over to Katara waiting for her affirmation, a small and gentle nod -imperceivable to all but him - before speaking. “It’s easier to show you than to describe it.”

It’s been a while since Sokka had visited this place, almost five years now. They stood on the edge of the ice shelf overlooking a bay filled with icebergs and ice floes. Strewn amongst the ice is the twisted remains of metal ships. The sight of the tattered flags battered by the winds still fills Sokka with rage, but he can’t bring himself to look away. Katara stands next to him, he knows her hand is on their mother’s necklace as she looks over the remains of the only battle of the South Pole. 

Tiger seals have taken over the area, with pups sliding down the icy slopes on the ice, not caring about the destruction and desolation surrounding them. It was oddly calming to see.

It takes Zuko’s panting and labored breathing to pull his attention away from the destruction. It seemed the boy still wasn’t used to wearing so many layers, and trekking through snow was something Sokka and Katara were used to that Zuko was not. Climbing up the shelf wasn’t easy for the guy, but Sokka respected that he tried. He took pity on him and helped him up the last few feet. He took a few minutes to catch his breath and Sokka realized just how out of place Zuko looked in one of Kiki’s old parkas - it was too large for him, reaching near his ankles and sleeves past his wrists. He looked warm at least, which was the important thing. 

“Cold air does not suit me,” Zuko managed to wheeze out after catching his breath. His voice was muffled as Gran-Gran had insisted on him wearing a scarf. Gran-Gran had never mothered him this much. “So what did you want to show me?” 

Sokka heaves him up, more roughly than he should have, but Zuko doesn’t complain, and points out to the bay. It takes Zuko a moment for his eyes to catch the metal of the ship, but the recognition as he spots the red flags fluttering in the wind is unmistakable. His eyes widen as he sees the full extent of the damage, the parts of ships torn apart and crushed by ice, some of them sliced cleanly through. One of the ice cliffs surrounding the area was smaller, ragged and choppy, with lines of soot frozen on the face in the shape of an impact crater, the black a stark contrast on the white and blue of the ice. That’s where the ice in the bay came from. And off to the side, a single ship sits trapped, elevated and encased by a large and unnatural protrusion of ice with the bow pointing towards the sky. A dozen or so of the red tattered flags are gathered around it. A warning to all those who would dare attack.

It seemed a decisive victory for the Southern Water Tribe - that would explain why it was kept a secret, the Fire Lord didn’t like his mistakes shown. And yet the people of the South Pole seemed to view it as a day of loss. Zuko wondered what they must have lost.

“It wasn’t always an ice field. It used to be the bay that our ships would launch from.” Sokka spoke first, answering the questions Zuko couldn’t bring himself to ask. “They did what they needed to, to protect us.” That last part seemed more like a reminder for himself than for Zuko. “It was the closest they ever got to the Pole. And mom made sure that they’d never get a chance to get closer.” Sokka wipes his eyes with his sleeves, there wasn’t any use for tears right now, and slides down the hill with a practiced grace, heading towards the held ship.

“Come on, if we’re already here might as well not waste a trip,” he motions to Katara and Zuko to follow him. He makes the trek up to the boat quite easily and waits for Katara and Zuko to join him. He brings them over to the side he knows has a gaping hole in it, and scrambles up the ice, helping Katara up. As he turns to help Zuko up, he finds - to his surprise - Zuko had already climbed up on his own. He shrugs at Sokka’s surprise,  _ it’s just something I am pretty good at _ , before waiting for Sokka to take the lead.

Sokka leads them carefully through the ship, avoiding the areas that had proven too steep to climb last time. The ship is eerily quiet, as Sokka steps over the weapons that lay strewn over the floor. He knows the ship is deserted, but still can’t help to feel an eerie chill run down his spine. Ghosts of that fateful day still haunt this ship. He’s stepping over one of the perilously laid down weapons on the floor, when he hears crashing behind him. He turns quickly to find Zuko sprawled on the floor, a pair of dao swords on his chest. Katara was standing to the side, unhurt - thankfully.

“What are you doing? Don’t you know this place could be booby-trapped!” Sokka hissed into his good ear, helping him up. “What could possibly be so important that you’d risk-” Sokka cut himself off as he saw fear rising in Zuko’s eye as his voice raised. He calms himself before turning to look at Zuko again, “You okay?” Zuko nods, taking Sokka’s extended hand.

“The blades looked familiar, is all. Also you shouldn’t worry about boobytraps here. If there are any they’d be set-up at the Captain’s quarters or the engine room. Not some random hallway, there’s nothing worth protecting here.” Zuko walks ahead of them, before pointing out a trip wire along the floor. “Plus the traps are easy to spot once you know what to look for.”

“How do you know that?” 

“The ships are, for the most part, designed the same way,” he puts a hand on the wall. “Although this ship is bigger than anything I’ve seen built before.” 

“This was the smallest ship that was part of the invasion force. They don’t even make them this small anymore. And even then, this ship was considered ancient when Gran-Gran was fighting.” Sokka makes a left turn to enter the helmsman’s room and very quickly gets pulled back by Zuko before he accidentally steps on a trip wire. 

“What, that’s ridiculous, these ships were barely drawings on paper a few days ago.” He steps over the wire carefully to step into the room. Maps are strewn across the table, and tacked on to walls, the ship’s movement carefully tracked with charcoal. He traces along the path from its origin point, somewhere in the Eastern edge of the Earth Kingdom.

“Zuko, how long were you in that iceberg?” Katara butts in, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t know, a few days maybe? It just seems like too short a time to be able to ramp up production and mobilize everything so quickly. And some of the things that you’re saying make very little sense.”

“Like what?” Sokka looks through the shelves, pulling out journals haphazardly from the shelves and laying them open on the table, with a practiced ease.

“Like the so-called ‘invasion force’ ten years ago. I’ve pored over all the military engagements from the Fire Nation for the last hundred years, I think I’d know if they sent a force to the South Pole. I mean the only time they sent a force to engage anyone from the Water Tribe at all was over seventy years ago. And that was pretty clearly sent to the  _ North _ Pole.”

“The Battle of the Northern Sea.” Sokka looks up from his journals to see Zuko nod. “That was over hundred and seventy years ago.” He pulls out another book and opens it to a certain page, laying it next to the other journals that he’d already laid down, catching a glance at Zuko’s face. He’s having trouble reconciling the difference in dates. 

Katara holds up a map in confusion. “None of these movements make any sense, and all these names are wrong,” she puts it on the table covering Sokka’s journals, as he frowns at her, before pointing at a particular spot. “There isn’t an outpost here.”

“Yeah, none of it made sense to last time I was here either.” Sokka rolled up the map and stuffed it into the pack that he’d brought. Katara glared at him accusingly, arms crossed. “Katara, my wonderful sister,” he crooned. “ _ Please _ don’t tell Gran-Gran.” 

He spots a large ornate journal in the corner of the shelf. Sokka runs his finger along the spine,  _ this clearly has to be the Captain’s Journal _ , and moves to pull it. Zuko stops looking at the pair of swords that he had taken from the wall, as he notices Sokka reaching out to grab the book. He reaches out yelling stop, dropping one of the swords, as Sokka pulls the book off the shelf. Everyone is still as Sokka notices the cover is fake, a leather shell to hide a metal hook with a thin rope attached to it. The hook is angled so any motion to pull the book out would cause the rope to slip off. He holds his breath as he gently places it back on the shelf.

Satisfied that he had successfully prevented the trap from being set off, Sokka turned to look back at the maps and journals that he and Katara had assembled on the table when he heard the loud clink of shifting metal. He shoots Katara and Zuko a worried look as the gears of the ship start to turn as the engine begins to power up. They all stand still, unsure of what to do when a loud boom from below breaks the silence.

“The only thing below us is the engine room. That sound can’t be good.”

At Zuko’s admission, Sokka rushes to the table and stuffs as much as he can into his bag. Katara moves to pull him away to escape before he yells “When else are we going to get a chance to decrypt Fire Nation intel?” Struggling to be heard over the whirring of the engines springing to life. Katara relents, and grabs as much as she can carry to lighten Sokka’s load, before pushing her brother away from the mountain of documents that they couldn’t carry. 

They quickly run out of the room, Sokka taking the lead, Zuko trailing behind. The pipes around them begin to hiss before letting out puffs of steam, making it difficult for Sokka to see. Seeing Sokka struggling to orient himself in the steam, Zuko quickly takes the lead, grabbing the siblings by their arms and guiding - pulling - them through the twists and turns of the maze within the belly of the ship. Leading them down a way that Sokka had never been before. It’s getting hotter in the ship, uncomfortably hot, with all the layers Sokka is wearing. Zuko stops suddenly catching Sokka off guard as he bumps into him, dropping several of the papers that he was carrying as he lands on his back. 

Zuko kicks at the wall, with a strength Sokka didn’t know he had. The panel loosens slightly as Zuko takes a few steps back and kicks at the panel again with a flying leap.The panel comes loose, and Zuko helps Katara down, before turning around and helping Sokka up, handing him the papers before all but pushing him out of the ship as fire comes leaping into the hallway. Sokka slides down the side of the ship and lands with an unexpected grace, before turning to check if Zuko had escaped.

As the fiery inferno neared, Zuko threw up his arms to deflect the flames and hold them in place. The fire’s advancement stopped momentarily, before pushing forward with a stronger force, knocking Zuko back and out through the hole he had created. And straight into a snow pile, lodging him in place. Sokka and Katara look up in fear as the ship releases a large red flare into the sky, tinting the landscape a deep and unnatural red, before exploding high in the sky. Leaving a dark smoke trail in its wake as the red sky fades to a deep unnatural yellow.

He drops the papers in his hands, rushing to help dig Zuko out of the snow pile, having been trapped in his fair share of snow piles he knows how uncomfortable it is to be trapped in one. He calls Katara over to help him dig Zuko out, and she joins him, scooping snow out with her hands. Sokka stops digging for a second and stands back before poking Katara to remind her that she is in fact a waterbender, and that she can bend the snow off of Zuko, thereby saving time, minimizing the amount of time he would be in a very cold snow pile, and - most importantly - making sure Sokka’s hands did not freeze off.

“Oh, right. I panicked.” She takes a step back and swings her arm around trying to bend the snow around him. She succeeds in getting the snow around the three of them to lift into the air. The snow shudders in the air for a moment, before Katara brings her arms in quickly and the snow solidifies into ice encasing Zuko. 

“That’s worse.” Sokka knocks on the ice. “I can’t believe I need to say this, but getting snow off of someone does not mean freeze them in a block of ice. That is in fact the opposite of what getting snow off of someone means.”

“Oh, I’d like to see you try. Give me a second, Ruk taught me this one.” She pulls her hands out away from her body, and the ice trapping Zuko melts down into water and streams away from him before Katara lets it drop to the ground. “See, pretty good control if I do say so myself.”

“Sure, I still don’t understand why it needed to be ice first,” Sokka waves his hand at her. He busies himself stuffing his shirt with the various papers he’d dropped, then slings his arm over Zuko’s shoulders and hoists him up. “So. When were you going to tell us you were a firebender?”

“I, uhm, honestly didn’t think it would come up.” He groans as Sokka shifts to carry more of his body. “Sorry, I thought stopping the blast was a pretty useful thing.”

“Nah, just joking, we knew you could firebend, you kind of put a hole in Kiki’s wall. Katara had to fix that. Talked about it during the Council meeting.”

“Oh, right. Sorry about that.” He hesitates slightly, before pulling out a journal from where he had stuffed it in his parka when Sokka must not have been looking. “You were looking for the Captain’s log, right?” Sokka nods, vigorously. “It was hidden under the table, in a secret compartment. I grabbed it before you dragged us out of the room. Just in the nick of time too.”

“If you knew it was there, why did you let me pull the book?” Sokka glared at him accusingly, Zuko shrinking under his gaze. He stammers at the accusation but doesn’t manage to get a chance to answer before Katara interjects on his behalf.

“Sokka, stop guilt-tripping the poor guy; he did try to stop you from triggering the trap.” She gathers the remaining papers in her hands and takes the journal from Zuko, before pointing up at the trail of the signal flare. “Gran-Gran is not going to be happy about that. We should head back quickly, just in case…” She doesn’t finish her thought but Sokka knows.  _ In case someone from the other side saw. In case they decide to come. In case we need to fight. In case we need to make another decision like mom’s. _ He nods, shifting Zuko’s weight off of him as he’s able to stand by himself, his eyes trained on the sky.

***

Captain Jee enters the General’s quarters. They had been at sea for almost five years now, and the General had taken to decorating his walls with a wide variety of curios that they had picked up at their many port of calls. The General’s mismatched Pai Sho set sat set to play at a small table dedicated to it, it was halfway through a game. General Iroh was meditating, his back to the door, as the glow of the candles lighting the room steadily increased and decreased in time with his relaxed inhalations and exhalations. Only a powerful firebender was able to have such complete mastery over fire. It was slightly mesmerizing.

“Captain Jee,” he opened one eye to glance over at him. Jee stood at attention quickly, earning a small smile from Iroh. “You must have news. Otherwise you would know better than to interrupt my meditation.” He continued his controlled breathing exercise, the flames continuing to rise and fall with his breathing. 

“Sir, we have been tailing the sky bison as per your last orders. However, we’ve encountered a,” he hesitates trying to pick the proper word. “A potential complication.” Iroh turns slightly, lifting a questioning eyebrow. “The men spotted an emergency flare. They recognize it as one of ours.” 

“What’s the issue, then?”

“Responding to the flare would cause us to lose the sky bison’s trail, sir.” Jee bows awaiting Iroh’s response.

He gets up and walks over to the map of the South Pole that he had laid upon his desk, calling Jee over to point out which direction they were currently travelling and which direction they would need to go in order to respond to the distress beacon. Iroh strokes his beard thoughtfully before noticing that the trajectory of the sky bison would have the airbender pass nearby an outpost of the Southern Water Tribe.  _ The airbender will surely stop there for supplies, and we’d be able to question the locals about his location. _ The decision is simple.

“Have the helmsman change course to respond to the distress signal. We can pick up the trail of the airbender again later; have the men prepare for taking on additional passengers, alert the ship’s surgeon and have them prepare the sick bay.” Iroh rolls up the map and places it under his arm. “Let the helmsman know that I’ll be joining him shortly as well.” 

Captain Jee nods at Iroh’s orders, looking relieved, and marches out to fulfill them diligently, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again. Ever a competent man, he wonders what Jee did, who he crossed to get assigned to this miserable, never-ending task. He doesn’t ask. Deep down he knows the answer is better left unsaid. Instead, he breathes in deeply as he picks up his helmet, the flames flickering dangerously high, licking the walls. He moves towards the hallway and in a quick motion dons the helmet and exhales, extinguishing the candles all at once. The shadow of his armored body looming in the light of the open doorway. He shuts the door.

***

Sneaking back into town was more difficult than Katara had originally anticipated. Everyone was on edge from the sudden appearance of the Fire Nation flare, there were more guards at the towers than usual, and a troop of warriors was preparing to head out to the outpost at the docking area they had built for larger ships, ever since the bay had become impassable. They also hadn’t told anyone where they were headed when they left, or that they had left at all, so it wouldn’t bode well for them to be caught trying to sneak back in. Especially with the threat of an imminent attack.

Sokka called her over, pointing at a spot in the wall that surrounded the town. He was intimately acquainted with all the battlements of the South Pole, it was his job after all. Of course he knew where the best spot to sneak in would be. She creates a hole in the wall, gritting her teeth at the thought of it, she makes it as small and neat as possible, to minimize the damage.

Sokka enters first, and sends back an all clear for Zuko and Katara to follow. Once inside, Katara closes the hole she made, it was much cleaner than what she had done earlier. You couldn’t tell that there was ever a hole there. If they weren’t in the midst of preparing for a possible attack she might have looked for Ruk to get his opinion on her handiwork.

“I can’t believe we didn’t get caught.” Sokka remarks as they gather themselves together redistributing everything that they had carried. They rounded the corner to turn to the main road.

“I can.” They were greeted by a battalion, fully armored, with spears pointed at them. Worse than that, a very disappointed Gran-Gran was leading the group, donned in her own armor - a relic from the time she used to lead ships into battle before Katara and Sokka had been born - her wolf helmet in her hands. “Where have you been? And know that the only way that you two are getting out of trouble is if the answer is ‘The Spirit World.’ And even then I’m not entirely sure,” she wagged her finger between Sokka and Katara.

“Would you believe me if I said the Spirit World?” The look on Gran-Gran’s face was enough to assure Katara that she would not - in fact - believe it if Sokka had said ‘The Spirit World.’ Sokka looks down at his feet, unable to look Gran-Gran in the eyes as he mumbles “We were at the ship” under his breath.

Gran-Gran’s eyes widened in shock at the mention of the place. “What spirit possessed you to go there, of all places? Don’t you know it’s dangerous? What were you thinking?” Sokka opens his mouth to speak but Gran-Gran dismisses him with a wave of her hand. “You weren’t thinking is the answer. Why else would you bring  _ him _ ,” she points a finger accusingly at Zuko. “To the ship. No doubt his idea, so he could contact whatever allies he had lying in wait-”

“I didn’t-” Zuko starts.

“Enough.” Gran-Gran cuts him off, the soldiers lift their spears, pointing them at him more purposefully than before, ready to attack at a second’s notice. Gran-Gran notices the shift and holds her hand up, and the soldiers disengage, moving their spears to stand upright beside them. “We were going to help you.” She says sadly, casting her eyes to the ground. “But you’ve just proven to us you can’t be trusted. You leave me no choice.”

She straightens her back, mustering herself as tall as possible before donning her wolf helmet. “Zuko, you have been found to be a traitor, gather your things and leave within the hour.” Zuko moved to argue against her, but the glare Lady Kanna wore only grew harsher. “Be thankful that I’m not heartless and giving you the chance to gather supplies, If you are found to still be here past that deadline, you will find me much less agreeable.”

Zuko hands over the things that he had been carrying, before he starts to walk in the direction of Kikaro’s home, gutted and defeated by the harshness of Lady Kanna’s words. He hears Sokka and Katara argue that he had not been the one to set off the flare. That it had been an accident. That he had saved their lives. It wouldn’t matter. Lady Kanna would hear none of it. He knew how this would end, and he refused to turn to look back at them. The least he could do was to give them a chance to retain their dignity. He didn’t want them to see the tear running down his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the comments so far, I really appreciate it. I literally shoved my phone in my brother's face to show off the comments because I was so excited and touched by them.
> 
> I am considering adding chapter summaries if y'all are interested in. 
> 
> As promised this would technically mark the end of episode 1.
> 
> I hope you like it.


	5. Return of the Avatar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this post (https://aboutiroh.tumblr.com/post/623482349267697664/good-ho-mens-cubedleo-uberguber89) and too many late night ramblings between me and my friends, who are gracious enough to let me just send them random things and respond to me with a patience that knows no bounds, especially Alice.

It was cold and lonely in the icy plains of the South Pole. The snowy mountains remained firmly in the distance despite their hours of travel. Druk is tired, not used to the cold weather and still not fully recovered from their time in the iceberg. Their travel had been slow going, and mostly land based, Druk was far too cold to spread his wings. He was cold too. They seemed to be a safe enough distance away from town where they could probably risk taking a short rest and warm themselves. 

He pulled out one of the blankets that Kikaro had so lovingly shoved in his hands the second he had walked into their home and laid it on the ground, remembering the instructions they all but drilled into Zuko’s head as they shoved more supplies into his hands.  _ Stay off the frozen ground. The ground will sap your body heat faster than the air. _ He sat down on it, beckoning Druk to join him, as his dearest friend coiled himself around him, extending a wing over them and making a makeshift shelter with an opening facing away from the wind. Zuko planted a kiss on the Druk’s snout, he deserved that much, he deserved more than what Zuko could give him.

He sighed and shrugged the bag Kikaro had given him off his shoulders to take stock in what he had. It was an old pack, but good quality, it had Kikaro’s name on a tag along its side. Zuko ran his fingers along it before opening it. He hadn’t packed it, and had merely accepted it when Kikaro strapped it onto his back before shoving food into his hands and ordering him to eat it. Zuko still didn’t understand why they had helped him so much. He didn’t deserve it, and he would never get the chance to thank them. 

He banished that thought from his mind as he methodically pulled out everything Kikaro had given him: food, a bundle of tinder, bandages, burn ointment, fishing line and hooks, a hunting knife in a decorative sheath. He stopped and examined it more closely. It was a good knife, it bore the insignia of the water tribe near the hilt - a crescent moon with three squiggly lines meant to represent the ocean inscribed in a circle. A military knife. It had lovingly been sharpened to a point, shined and polished. 

He dropped it in the blankets. Hot tears streaming down his face as he realized that Kikaro had given him the pack they must have used while they were in the navy. They had spoken fondly of those times. And once the tears began to fall, the sheer immensity of everything that had transpired in the last two weeks hit him. He had been banished from not one, but two homes. He had been burned, badly. He had been frozen in an iceberg and woken up a hundred years later, if Sokka and Katara were to be believed.

He sniffled and wiped at his nose with his sleeve, as Druk brought his snout up to his face. His warm breath was welcome in the cold, and Zuko wrapped his arms around Druk’s neck to hold him close as he bawled into the fur around his head. A rough tongue began to lick the right side of his, gently lapping at the trails of his tears. Tickling him until a small giggle escaped. Satisfied Druk dug his snout into his stomach, happily settling into his new comfortable position of being sprawled across Zuko’s lap. Zuko took the chance to stuff his face into Druk’s mane to breathe in his warm, familiar, and comforting smell. It was calming, and it reminded him of what he used to do back at the Fire Nation Palace after particularly bad days.

Druk shifted slightly as a strong wind blew across the landscape, shielding Zuko from the brunt of it. Snow began to fall in a soft flurry. It was the first time that Zuko had seen snow fall. If he wasn’t so cold, he might have been able to enjoy it. Although if he remembered correctly, snow was supposed to be white. He blinked and rubbed at his eye. He took off one of his gloves and held it out, letting a few flakes fall into his palm. The flakes melted with his body heat leaving a small amount of soot in his hand. Zuko stares at it.

“They’re in trouble,” he looks over at Druk. “They’re in trouble, we need to help them.” Druk nods in agreement and detangles himself as Zuko stuffs the various supplies back into the bag haphazardly. The things no longer fit as neatly as when Kikaro packed, but the pack closes. And ties it onto the many furs that still wrapped Druk, and throws the blanket over Druk’s back before cutting some of the ropes so that Druk could spread his wings. He mounts Druk and quickly spurs Druk to run back towards the town. 

He jumps into action scurrying quickly across the snow, taking a running leap, and unfurls his wings, powerfully launching himself into the air with a deafening roar that echoes in the barren landscape, as he heads back in the direction of people.

***

Gran-Gran was not happy that they had snuck away. She was even less pleased that they had gone to The Ship. She had expected them to know better. But she was happy that they were safe, and in Katara’s experience that would trump everything else that they had done. They were safe, and they were together and they hadn’t gotten hurt. And, to their credit, they had even brought back documents that they could decode to try and break the code that the Fire Nation used to send their intel. It was ten years out of date, but the code could prove invaluable. Overall, a rather successful venture, in Katara’s opinion; or it would have been if the flare hadn’t gone off. 

Gran-Gran had everyone fully mobilizing and was sending off brigades in waves towards their dock outpost. It was the only place the large Fire Nation ships could even potentially land, even with their new icebreaker ships. She knew that it was no use to argue with Gran-Gran right now. Even if she was wrong. They could sort out this mess and get Zuko unbanished after they were sure that everyone was safe and the battle - if it even happened - was over. She understood that she had to make difficult decisions, because Gran-Gran was the leader, and she couldn’t fault her for it. So, she let herself get lectured for a bit, dragged Sokka away with his maps so that they too could join in the preparations, and gave Gran-Gran the stink eye which she hoped conveyed that this conversation wasn’t over and that she thought Gran-Gran was wrong. 

They tug on their armor in silence. Gloves. Boots. Bindings. She helps Sokka with his gauntlets and greaves and the one strap on his back he couldn’t quite reach on his own, without him needing to ask. They had practiced this plenty of times before, she could easily do it blindfolded. She stood over one of the barrels, and gently coaxed the water out, having it wrap around her forearms and legs before freezing it in place. It wasn’t as refined as the ones Ruk would make, but that skill would come later. These would do just fine. 

She pulled her hair and tied it back as Sokka took out the war paint that their dad had given them before he last left. He methodically began to apply it to his face, first gray, then white, and finally black. He no longer needed a mirror to apply it. Katara put up her face mask and sat as Sokka applied the paint on her face. Trusting him to get it right as he scrunches up his face in concentration and smears the colors onto her forehead. He wipes his fingers on a rag as he stands, and nods to her, letting her know she can move.

He helps her with the latching mechanism for the new water pouch carrier he had made for her, this one attaches at the front, but she hasn’t quite mastered it just yet; but she remembers how Sokka excitedly held it up, proudly declaring that she’d be able to carry twice as much water as before. She hands him his club and boomerang, both feel so heavy in her hands, and yet he swings them around like they weigh nothing. Satisfied with their balance and sharpness he sheathes the club onto his back and the boomerang at his hip. He sticks a knife in his boot when he thinks she isn’t looking. 

They join their grandmother at the outpost, it isn’t far - a short thirty minute hike downhill. They used to go penguin sledding down whenever one of their Navy ships would return. It felt strange to walk there.

Gran-Gran is in the midst of trying to get a group in rank and file and coordinated with the warriors riding on snow leopard caribou when they arrive. Sokka sees her struggling and takes over the group running an impromptu weapons check at the same time. Katara spots Ruk on the other side of the group and waves him down. He waves back, brandishing a spear in one hand, the ice encasing his arm glinting in the light. Even from this distance she could see the workmanship of his gauntlets, making hers look like a child made them. Gran-Gran stands next to her and puts a hand on her shoulder.

“You don’t agree with my decision.”

“What tipped you off?” She puts a finger to her chin, in mock thought. “Was it how you didn’t let us explain ourselves?” She counts each of her suggestions on her fingers. “Or maybe it was the fact that you banished someone and we haven’t done that since, well ever? Certainly wouldn’t help that it wasn’t his fault either. Also how about the fact that Sokka feels like he’s responsible for the whole thing. Especially about the guy getting banished, because he’s the one that set off the trap accidentally. Trying to do something so that you would be impressed, no less.” Gran-Gran winces at that admittal. 

“I may have reacted harshly.” She concedes, and decides to continue once she sees Katara’s face and her hand motioning to  _ go on _ . “Without thinking, and considering the truth of the matter. That was wrong.” Katara gives her a look, conveying her agreement with that statement. “Sokka isn’t taking it well.”  _ Water is wet _ . “I’ve organized for a hunting party to go after him. In a few hours, when we’re no longer on high alert. I’ll do what I need to, to get him back home.” 

Katara was about to ask her grandmother what exactly she meant by ‘home’ when their conversation was interrupted by a shout. A warning cry. The warriors quickly got into a defensive position, moving as one, spears pointed in the direction from which the shout emmenated. Sokka’s endless drills with them had come in handy, as their movements synchronized automatically. A pair bearing shields immediately situated themselves in front of Gran-Gran, and Sokka all but threw himself in front of her as he drew his club. A large shadow cam across the ice, the source blocking out the sun temporarily, as Katara shaded her eyes, glinting at the sky, trying to figure out what was the threat.

Gran-Gran had beat her to it. “Stand down. It’s a sky bison.” The warriors part, giving the sky bison a place to land, maintaining a wide berth between themselves and the beast. It gently lowers itself out of the sky, hovering slightly above the ground for a few seconds, before plodding down on the ice, releasing a low growl as it touches the ice. Katara notices a few of the warriors grip their spears a little tighter.

A bald monk, blue arrows tattooed on his wrinkled forehead sat on the saddle of the sky bison, smiling and waving enthusiastically. He looked older than Gran-Gran. And he shot himself up with a gust of wind, lifting himself a good twenty feet in the air, before gently lowering himself down, in what could clearly only be airbending. He lands on the ground softly, his landing cushioned by a pocket of air, and walks towards Gran-Gran, his feet not sinking into the snow. She realizes that the monk is only wearing a sarong, and a thin robe, but unlike Zuko (and every other normal person) he wasn’t shivering in the cold.

_ Now all we’re missing is an earthbender drilling up from the snow, and I’ll have seen everything. _

The monk bows deeply, before extending a hand out to Gran-Gran. Gran-Gran clasps his forearm in traditional greeting, and they both nod at each other.  _ So a well-traveled airbender who knows Southern Water Tribe customs. _ He smiles brightly again, introducing himself. “Greetings, I’m Aang, and this,” he gestures at the sky bison, “is Appa.” 

“Greetings Aang, I am Kanna, of the Southern Water Tribe. What brings you to the South Pole?” Katara didn’t understand how Gran-Gran could keep such a level voice in absurd situations like this. But she respected and admired it very much, she could do that even while still being angry at her.

The monk takes a deep breath before beginning to talk, having a tendency to gesture wildly with his hands to get his point across. “I was traveling to the Southern Air Temple when we got knocked out of the sky by a powerful wind about a week ago. And there was a bright beam of light that emanated from this general direction which was obviously the source and so we followed it. But then it disappeared a while back, so it’s not like I could very easily tell where it came from anymore.” And talk. “So I kind of just vaguely drifted around this general area for a few days to try and see if the spirits would guide me to the place, because you would think they would. But the spirits around here aren’t very nice. Sorry Spirits, I’m sure you have plenty of things on your plates, and are very busy.” And talk. “And that kind of led me to a dead end. I also kind of got lost, because I’m not very good at directions without landmarks to guide me, and I’m not very familiar with this place.” And talk. “So I wandered around the tundra with Appa for a day or two, but then luckily we found the coastline again, after seeing the flare. And I - well technically Appa spotted it first - spotted your outpost, and that brings us to right about now.” 

The monk takes another deep breath about to continue talking, before Gran-Gran holds out her hands, assuring him that he’s already told them quite enough. More than enough. Gran puts her hands on Katara and Sokka’s shoulders, pushing them slightly towards the monk as she speaks. “You want to talk about magical beams of light, these are the people to talk to.” 

She nudges them forward again, Sokka waves his hand weakly, loosening his grip on his club, but still on guard. The old monk is nothing but smiles, close up she now notices the thin white beard he has, and how his eyes are genuinely lighting up with excitement at the prospect of talking with them. “Hi, I’m Aang,” he rubs the back of his head, his smile widening. “But, I guess you already heard my story.” She coughs.

“What do you want to know?” Sokka always gets right to the point in these sorts of things. Katara prefers much less direct methods. 

“Just want to know more about the sudden light.”

“Why?” She asked as Sokka’s grip on the club tightened.

“I got knocked out of the sky, I’d like to know why.”

“Fair. Guy was trapped in ice. We got him out. Freak light show. The spirits do that sort of thing sometimes, according to Gran-Gran at least.” He shrugs, conveying his own doubt of the interference of spirits.

“Oh, huh. Is the ‘Guy’ still around?” Katara isn’t sure how much to reveal, and whether they want to reveal that he was banished from the South Pole. It doesn’t feel like it’s something that they have a right to say, especially given that Gran-Gran had also just agreed that it was done unjustly. Sokka speaks for her.

“No. He left.” He turns his head to look away, training his eyes on the ground. Sokka’s tone is final, and Katara knows that he won’t be answering any more questions, no matter how persistent the monk is. Aang doesn’t get that message.

“Would you know which way he-” He stops, as a single flake of gray snow falls between them. They looked up at the sky, as the snowflakes, usually a brilliant white, that began to fall were tinted gray and black with soot. Katara knew only one thing that caused black snow. 

She looked over at Gran-Gran, noticing that she was holding back tears. Sokka and the other warriors are looking at Gran-Gran too, waiting for guidance and direction. She blinks, and her sadness and horror melts away to calm and collected face of neutrality setting out to prepare them all for the worst possible scenario. Katara knows it's a facade, a brave face to hide the hopelessness of their situation that Gran-Gran is putting on for everyone else; because she knew that they were so horrendously underprepared and unequipped to really be able to fight back any invasion larger than a medium-sized battleship. And they had lost so much last time.

She knew the cost. And she told them to take their positions anyway. The compound burst into action, activity driven by tense anticipation and overwhelming dread. The airbender had been dragged into the compound for hiding, and the sky bison had been taken to the snow leopard caribou pens and covered with hay and fur. It wouldn’t fool anyone, but they did the best with what they had.

Katara took her place at one of the two watchtowers erected at the docks. Ruk was in the one opposite to her, his face grim. He had been there, the last time the ships had come. He would have been Sokka’s age then. Had he also felt inadequate and ill-prepared? She looked over at the ranks of warriors that had formed in preparation, a rag-tag group of all those who were willing to fight who were still at the South Pole. Veterans who had been discharged with wounds that couldn’t recover on the move, burn scars aching in the cold. Elders far past their primes desperate to protect their grandchildren and great-grandchildren, weapons they no longer had the strength or dexterity to wield in their hands. Teenagers who hadn’t hit their growth spurts yet, whose voices were still cracking as they wore too large, mismatched armor they had scavenged piece by piece from older relatives. Sokka and Gran-Gran at the head of it. She wondered how many they would lose today as she sat tense waiting for them to come. Who exactly would she lose.

She hated that she knew she would fail them. She hated that she wouldn’t be able to protect them all. She hated that she couldn’t do anything. She hated that now all that any of them could do was wait. Wait for ashes to come to them, and try to put out as many fires, with the dim hope that they’d be able to do enough. She hated the uncertainty of it.

***

The silence was overwhelming. No group this large should be that silent. He almost welcomed the sound of the incoming warship. It broke the silence.But then no one told him that ice sounded like bones when it cracked. 

He winced and gritted his teeth at the sound as the ship’s bow cut through the ice. Stupid Fire Nation soldiers didn’t even have the decency to respect the ice. He took a deep breath, sensing the fear rising through the ranks behind him. He glanced over at Gran-Gran, her spear was solidly lodged into the snow beside her, her face steeled to face whatever came their way. His palms rested on his boomerang and club, sheathed on his back on Gran-Gran’s orders. She wanted to try diplomacy first.

A mist had settled in obscuring the plain in front of them, and a cold breeze ran through the compound. Gran-Gran didn’t so much as shiver. The ground began to quake, shields behind him clinked together as they all scrambled to remain upright as the cracking and rumbling began to grow closer. Cracks form around them as a large shadow looms over them, splintering superficially across the surface of the ice. He gulps and looks over at Gran-Gran, she stands, unfazed and unmoving. He swallows back his fear and stands a little taller, mirroring Gran-Gran’s posture. It helps settle the warriors behind them a little, to see their commanders standing strong in the face of everything. He wills it to be enough. 

An enormous shadow of a bow of an icebreaker ship stands before them. He hears the gasps and shuffling of feet behind him as a few of the younger warriors take a few steps back in terror. He would have too if he didn’t have Gran-Gran beside him. The watchtowers at the gate shake, pieces breaking off with the arrival of the ship. He breathes a sigh of relief when they stand, a testament to the skill of benders and builders past of his tribe. Katara is safe, for now at least. 

The ship comes closer, too close for his comfort, but Gran-Gran doesn’t move, so neither does he. A loud hiss of steam and the ship stops, dead in the water. The ice no longer cracks, and as the engines die down, the accursed silence returns. He hears the tell-tale sound of the whirring of gears as the bow of the ship creaks downward in a burst of steam landing heavily on the ground, knocking snow and air back. He slides slightly back, arms crossed in front of him in defense, as Gran-Gran holds on to him and her spear to prevent herself from sliding backwards herself. As he puts his arms down and looks up at the gangway, three figures descend from the mist. 

They come too close for Sokka’s comfort, but he trusts his grandmother, so he doesn’t charge, even though every fiber of him tells him to. When no waterbending attacks come from the towers, he knows Katara and Ruk are holding back too. The man in front is wearing a red helmet that ends in a sharp point, different from the ones the other two behind him are wearing. He’s also not wearing a face shield -  _ arrogant man then _ . 

Gran-Gran’s eyes widen in shock as she realizes who exactly was commanding the ship. All Southern Water Tribe commanders knew the horror stories, she had been lucky not to have faced him in the past.  _ The Dragon of the West _ . Sokka knew the name.

Sokka felt his grandmother tense unwillingly, her facade dropped as whispers of the Dragon of the West were passed along behind him. He took that as his signal. He whipped out his boomerang and threw it at the man in the center - the one that scared Gran-Gran - and aimed for his unprotected face in one motion before grabbing Gran-Gran’s spear. Yelling a warcry as he charged up the ramp, hoping that Katara and Ruk would get his message and attack. 

He doesn’t even get to get one thrust in with the spear as the general dodges the boomerang and knocks the spear out of his hands in one disarming blow, and pushes him off the side of the gangway opposite to where he threw the spear. Sokka rolls on the snow and pulls out the club from his back, preparing for a second rush when he sees two water whips appear from the towers, targeting the two firebenders behind the man. 

They create shields out of fire, the water jets evaporate on impact, before sending out powerful bursts of flame at the towers. Katara barely manages to duck out of the way. Ruk launches himself at the soldiers, encasing his entire right arm in ice as he lands, crouched, at the foot of the gangway in front of them. He whips his arm forward and ice shards erupt from his arm, lodging themselves into the metal in front of each man. He steps back to stand behind Gran-Gran, water held in an arc behind him, prepared to defend or attack, depending on the soldiers’ next moves. 

Katara slides down the side of the tower on ice she conjured up, picking up Gran-Gran’s spear from where it had been discarded in Sokka’s unsuccessful charge, and throwing it to her as she skated past, taking her position to mirror Ruk’s. Her water looked shakier as it was held up, but its form and intent was there. Sokka sees a small sparkle of light approaching them, smiling to himself as he runs to take his place next to Gran-Gran as his boomerang comes back into view. And collides with “The Dragon of the West’s” helmet with a loud cling, that reverberates in the silence before faithfully returning to Sokka’s outstretched palm.

He had been pushed forward by the unexpected blow, and tripped on the ice shard at his feet, his helmet askew, before regaining his balance. Sokka could hear the snickers from behind him, that was good, laughter meant they thought their foe could be defeated. Iroh scowled as he fixed his helmet, and took a firm and determined step closer. Ruk froze the edges of his water, a clear threat. Katara went so far as to sharpen hers to scythes. The two confirmed firebenders take position to loose powerful fireballs when their leader puts a hand up in the universal sign of stop. 

He clears his throat. “Where are you hiding him?” Silence. General Iroh sighs, running his hand along his face in frustration. “The airbender.” A voice from the ranks yells out a foolhardy “ _ Who?” _ in clear taunt. If Sokka ever figures out who that was, he swears they’ll get the first pick of fish from their next hunt, he’d certainly pay more for the utter look of frustration that the man has on the face.

“The airbender is a fugitive of the law, and under the jurisdiction of the Fire Nation. We’ve been tracking him for months” The man tries again. “If you hand him over to us we will leave and be on our way. On my honor.” At those words Sokka can tell Gran-Gran is considering it for a split second, but she remains silent. “However, if you insist on harboring the fugitive, we will have to resort to-” he pauses for effect. “ _ Disagreeable measures _ . Neither of us want that.” He looks at Gran-Gran while saying that last bit.

“Neither of us want that. That is true. But we are harboring no fugitive, to our knowledge.” Gran-Gran’s voice is clear and unwavering. She also wasn’t lying. “Now be gone,” she lifts her spear, and at the signal the first line of warriors point their spears at the invaders. “Before  _ we _ have to resort to …  _ disagreeable measures _ .” The warriors take a step forward at her words, as if to demonstrate, and Sokka’s never felt prouder of them than at this moment. Gran-Gran’s plan might actually work.

General Iroh sighs again, and without warning, extends his arm and grabs Gran-Gran, pulling her toward him, and turning her around as she struggles in his grasp. “Maybe I wasn’t descriptive enough. He’d be,” he takes a good look at Gran-Gran, “well he’s older than you, but looks about this age, actually wrinkly. A hundred years old or so.” He shakes Gran-Gran by the scruff on her armor. “Bald, blue arrow tattooed onto his forehead. Pretty hard to miss.” He casually takes off her helmet, throwing it to the side, and motions at her forehead. The warriors take another step closer and Sokka is working through twelve different plans in his head to see how to get the general to let go of Gran-Gran so that Katara and Ruk could send water slices his way. 

“Work with me. Please,” his voice is practically pleading at this point. He lets Gran-Gran go and pushes her forward so that she lands behind Sokka. One of the spearmen helps her up, Sokka takes note and swears that he’ll personally sharpen the man’s spear for that. “I do not wish to be forced to spill the blood of your innocent warriors.” Silence. “Very well.” He sounds like he’s apologizing as he drops down into a fighting stance and extends his arms, and flames erupt in arc around him. Shields are quickly put up in defense, and thankfully no one is harmed. The tips of the spears burn and char and crack in the heat, some of them crumbling to dust.

“I will ask you once more. Where is the airbender?” He’s begging now. They’re trained as a unit, and take their orders from their leader, if their leader refused to bend, neither would they. He’s greeted with silence, and shifting weapons. “I’m sorry.” He motions to his compatriots and they match his stance.  _ If you truly were sorry you wouldn’t be doing this _ . Gran-Gran is pulled in behind the shield line, and Katara steps closer to Sokka ready to pull him away at a second’s notice with her water whips. Sokka breathes in as he aims his boomerang once more. He’s mid swing when the blasted airbender shoots himself out of the top window yelling at the top of his lungs.

“Stop!” Sokka isn’t sure if it’s just the monk’s lung capacity or an airbender thing, but the command rings out across the entire compound and everyone stiffens at the monk’s voice. Sokka can hear Gran-Gran cursing under her breath, and he didn’t know words could be put in that particular order. “You said you would leave this place and leave these people alone if I  _ leave _ with you, correct?” Iroh nods. “Say it.”

“If you leave with me, my men and I,” he gestures at the boat and himself, “will happily leave this place and leave these people in peace.” Aang stands still on the roof, waiting for more. “You have that promise on my honor as a man.” 

“I’ll leave with you then.” Aang nods his head in agreement, and taps his staff on the roof. It opens up, revealing wings, and he uses it to glide down to them. He lands next to Gran-Gran, taking her hand and shaking it very enthusiastically. “You don’t need to worry about me, I’ve been ‘captured’ many times before, and gotten out just fine with a little distraction. I’ve certainly been in much worse places before. I’ll be okay, I promise.” He takes his hand away and smiles brightly and Sokka almost believes him.

He walks up to the gangway and the firebenders give him a wide berth, focusing on the single ancient airbender instead of the small troop of warriors in front of them.  _ They think he’s more dangerous than all of us combined _ . Aang is almost aboard, nearly meeting the other crewmen who have shackles prepared for him, when he snaps his fingers and quickly turns around. Gently slapping his forehead in an over-the-top gesture before digging around in the pockets in his shirt. The firebenders tense up at the move, more than happy to shoot fireballs first and never question the piles of ash that remain, when Aang holds what he was searching for between two fingers in triumphant showboating. Sokka squints and recognizes it as a vague bison shaped carving.

Aang takes a deep breath - the soldiers drop to their knees, keeping their arms out - and blows into the whistle. No sound comes out. They stand in relief, Aang motions towards himself aggressive as a loud grunt comes from the leopard caribou pens. Aang’s sky bison stepped into view, shaking off everything that was covering it. Aang giggles and motions towards himself, calling out “Come on Appa. Can’t leave without you, now can I buddy?” The sky bison grunts in agreement before taking off with great effort and gently floating over to the deck of the ship. Appa circles around the ship twice before landing the center of the deck, the metal moaning at the weight. Making himself comfortable, he rolls to one side onto his back, over one of the catapults on the deck, snapping parts and rendering it useless as its attendants scream in terror as they run from it, before rolling back onto his belly and shaking off the broken parts of the catapult, and putting his head down.

One of the soldiers that was supposed to be securing Aang had turned around to witness it, and had brought his hands to his head in despair at the sound of the crunching of the wood and metal beneath the sky bison, gasping in pain. His partner hands Aang the cuffs as he and Aang both put a sympathetic hand on the man’s shoulders and gently pat him on the back; Aang apologizing as he’s putting the cuffs on himself and the man’s partner insisting that they can do plenty with just one catapult and offering him a strong cup of tea in the meantime. Low growls begin to come from Appa, as a few of the braver crew members attempt to approach the sky bison, one getting close enough to poke the beast with the butt of his polearm before declaring to the deck “The Beast is asleep.” 

Aang is ushered into the boat by a different pair of guards as the original pair went off to get the promised tea. Closely followed by Iroh and his escort. Aang stands at the edge of the deck waving goodbye as the ship lets out another hiss, gears clank and the gangway is slowly pulled back upward. The ship’s engines roar to life as it slowly begins to back away, retreating into the more maneuverable waters of the sea. It is only a speck on the horizon when Sokka’s legs give out and he falls to his knees, his legs giving out. The entire compound starts to breathe again, as individuals busy themselves with repairing the damage that had been done so far. Someone hands him a waterskin. He can’t tell who it is under the warpaint. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the comments so far, I really appreciate them all. This would mark the beginning of the second episode if comparing to the TV show for pacing reference.
> 
> Will probably go back and add chapter summaries to the last chapter of an equivalent episode, whatever that means. 
> 
> If any of you are interested in seeing the planning doc or something, hmu.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this post (https://aboutiroh.tumblr.com/post/623482349267697664/good-ho-mens-cubedleo-uberguber89) and too many late night ramblings between me and my friends, who are gracious enough to let me just send them random things and respond to me with a patience that knows no bounds, especially Alice.

It had been an hour or so since the Fire Nation ship had arrived and left. One of the warriors passed by with an open waterskin, it didn’t smell of water. Kanna stopped the boy, shaking her head in disapproval as she held out her hand. The boy, sheepish at getting caught, handed it over to her without putting up a fuss, ducking his head in shame and avoiding her eyes as he ran off to hide amongst his friends, his bounty confiscated. She was halfway to pouring it out, when she capped it instead. It had been a long day. She could have this. She’d share it with Kikaro when she got back.

Katara and Ruk - may the Spirits bless them - had already frozen over the rift that the blasted ship had made, and Sokka - her dear grandson - had already sent an advance group on snow leopard caribous to follow the ship and ensure that the Dragon of the West actually kept his word. She had yet to find an acting second-in-command with the competence her grandson exudes, although her son would argue that Bato was a better commander, but she knew she was right. Bato had years of experience, Sokka just had a talent for it. She should listen to him more often.

She fiddled with what the airbender had given her as she made her way to the pens. A small round wooden token. A playing piece from Pai Sho. Figuring it out what it meant could wait. She had promised Katara - and by extension Sokka - that she would make things right; and though their best mounted warriors had taken after the ship, there were still a pair left that she could send out in search for the boy. If she didn’t have to wait for the advance party to report back she would have gone herself. 

She called over to the person in charge of the pens and was surprised to find Nutha answering her summoning. She was so young, younger than Katara, Kanna remembered teaching her how to properly put a saddle onto the leopard caribou and was almost certain that was only a month ago. And she had answered the warrior call today. It made Kanna sick to the stomach. “I need a search party to go out, North of the town.” She swallowed the bile in her mouth. “We’re looking for the boy that my grandchildren found.”

“Is he riding a dragon?”

“How did you know that?”

The girl points up at the sky behind her, Kanna’s gaze following her finger as she spots a shadow in the clouds. The girl’s tracking skill and eyesight was uncanny, although Kanna shouldn’t be surprised, it ran in her family. “I don’t think you’ll be needing that search party, Chief.” Nutha nodded in respect and returned to tending to the trio of animals that had walked up to them in curiosity. 

Kanna idly scratched under one of the animal’s chin, eliciting a soft purr before walking out to the center of the compound to meet with Zuko. It had been a long day, and she had a feeling it would only get longer as the dragon landed much more gracefully than the flying bison, allowing its rider to slide off before proceeding to tackle her grandson into the snow. She chuckled as he bemoaned about always being the one getting shoved into the snow. Zuko gave the dragon a look before dashing towards her, and the dragon pulled Sokka up and coiled himself around him in what could only be interpreted as an apologetic hug. He tapped Sokka’s head with his chin twice - she could practically hear the dragon comforting her grandson with a gentle “ _ there, there _ ” - before uncoiling himself and scurrying behind Zuko.

He bows deeply in the traditional Fire Nation way, a fist touching an extended palm. He’d hiked up the sleeves on Kikaro’s old parka so that his hands could be exposed. It feels wrong to be greeted like that, but it feels like the universe is cluing her in to the potential for change, where this might not be so odd. It occurs to her after a few seconds of bowing that he’s waiting for permission to speak. She bows her head slightly, and he takes his cue to straighten his back the way she knows only people from the Fire Nation can hold for extended periods of time. 

He meets her eyes and immediately launches into an apology. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here, you don’t want me here. But I saw the black snow, and you said bad things happened last time, and I saw the ice field first hand. And I was just worried, because I didn’t think I had been followed. And if there’s anyone hurt that’s my fault because I should have been here to - To do something. And I’m sorry -”

“They didn’t follow you.” She stops him mid sentence. It’s the most she’s ever heard him speak unprompted. The boy knows them for less than two days, and she wrongly banishes him, and still he returns, showing so much concern for her people. He looks confused, drowning in the parka, and so very pale. “You look cold. We can continue this inside.” She starts walking towards the animal pens, and motions him to follow. “We’ll get something warm in you too, tea most likely.”

“You’re not mad that I broke the rules of banishment and returned?” He looked so scared, shaking his head in disbelief. She understood Kikaro’s almost immediate adoption of him now, someone had hurt him before.

She shook her head. “I should be the one apologizing to you, I acted foolhardy. Katara certainly made that clear to me.” She explains to him what happened over a cup of tea, various warriors running various errands around them. His eyes widen when she tells him of the airbender that sacrificed himself for the safety of the South Pole.

He immediately gets up, making to leave, when she pulls him back down by the back of his parka. He lands in a heap, rubbing his backside. “You’re not going anywhere.” she continues to sip her tea. It’s not the worst tea that she’s had, but it’s pretty close. 

“I’m not going to abandon him. I’m not going to let him or anyone else get hurt. Not when I can do something about it.” He barks back, his pride wounded far more than his back.

“I understand. More than you can imagine.” She stands, having finished her cup, and walks over to the door, grabbing a large coat that had been hanging at the doorway. “But you’re not going alone.” She stares him down with the same look that she had given him during the council meeting. “I am to be understood.” Zuko nods sheepishly at her, not daring to contradict her to her face. She puts on the outer coat. “I’m heading back to town for a few things,” she calls out to no one in particular. There are a few affirmative grunts of acknowledgement. “You best be here when I return.” Her words are directed specifically at Zuko, she had a feeling he had been planning a great escape. 

He nods tersely. It’s enough of an answer for her. Nutha hands her some goggles and helps her mount one of the snow leopard caribou, opening the gate so that she can leave. No matter how old she gets, she still gets giddy at being perched so high. She clicks her tongue, gently reigning the creature in towards the direction of town, mentally making a list of everything her grandchildren would need her to get for their trip. She gently squeezes her knees together and her mount quickens its pace, settling into a gentle sprint well-suited for traveling short distances relatively quickly. 

***

He hadn’t expected Lady Kanna to be able to ride any beast, let alone one that he had often had described to him as vicious and ferocious and mainly man-eating. Although he wasn’t sure if he had just described the snow leopard caribou or the Lady Kanna herself. 

“Yeah, she’s extraordinary.” A small voice called out from behind him, it was the girl that had helped prepare the animal that Lady Kanna took. “Although if you aren’t doing anything, the least you could do is help me move this.” She had been struggling to lift a crate, almost her size, by herself. Why was she doing this alone? He wordlessly took one side of the crate, heaving slightly before she called out to him. “You’re off center.” She gently shoves him slightly to the left before returning to her side of the crate. It was lighter than it looked.

She opened the box and began scooping out amounts into various labeled bowls, he thinks one reads  _ Fluffy _ . He stands awkwardly, fiddling with the gloves he had been given, waiting for further instructions. The girl sighs, tilting her head back in frustration as she stops scooping, and shoos Zuko away, mumbling something about him stinking up her pens with ineptitude. She pushes him out of the pens, closing the gate and dusting off her hands before returning to scoop out the feed for cats.

He stands at the center of the square, for a bit before he spots Druk again, excitedly barking at him. Druk aggressively sticks his nose into the crook of his elbow, the tell-tale sign of demanding pets. Zuko gives in and scratches Druk behind the horn, his tail thumping against the snow in excitement. If only all his problems could be solved with a well placed scratch on the head. He sighs, wondering out loud what he should do to help the monk. His musings catch Druk’s attention, and he perks up, grabbing his sleeve with his teeth and pulling him. Not wanting Druk to rip the sleeve of a borrowed parka - Druk ripping his own clothes had led to disaster in the past - Zuko lets himself be dragged through the compound. 

He idly noted the sheer business of the place, despite its small size, everyone was doing something, floating between tasks, even without a clear chain of command. He should have expected it, especially after seeing how their council meetings worked. But it was very different seeing it in action. As he was dragged, some gently shove or pull him out of harm’s way - usually too long poles, or cargo being lifted onto and off ships - a couple yelling for him to get out of the way, most of them calling him “kid” in the same tone Kikaro used. He saw that Druk was dragging him towards the edge of the docks, where Sokka was busy stowing bags of assorted supplies onto a small cutter. Druk was a genius, if he couldn’t convince Lady Kanna to let him go after the Fire Nation ship, he could convince Sokka to let him go. 

He waved to get his attention. “Hey, Sokka.” He grunted in acknowledgement, heaving a bag onto the deck. “I have to go after that ship. I can’t let the old man fend for himself. The Fire Nation has a tendency to be,” he pauses unsure of what to say. He takes a deep breath and gestures at his own bandaged face. “Ruthless to the people that oppose it. I’m duty and honor bound to go after the man.” Sokka made no motion to stop loading the boat nor to address anything of what he just said. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes.” Druk jumps onto the ship, rocking it slightly, as Sokka steadies himself. He begins to unbuckle Zuko’s bag from Druk’s back, adding it to the growing pile of supplies on the ship. He returns to the series of knots that were currently holding the furs onto Druk, fiddling with it slightly before the entire thing loosens, releasing Druk from his furry confines. 

“You can’t stop me.”

“Wasn’t going to try to.” He gathers a bunch of the furs that had dropped from Druk, and begins to stack them on each other before rolling them and tying them shut. 

“The monk saved this entire encampment and you’re just abandoning him to the Fire Nation? We need to go after them and set him free.”

“You’re right.” Zuko stops talking in surprise. “Didn’t expect that, did you? Now, are you going to talk until the sun sets or are you going to join me?” Sokka holds out his hand to him and pulls him onto the cutter. “Welcome aboard the  _ Ocean Glider _ ,” Zuko raises his eyebrow. “I was nine when I named it, don’t judge. Anyway, your first job as second mate is to help your captain finish loading our supplies.”

“Wait we’re going after the Fire Nation Ship?” Sokka nods. “I actually had a bunch of other arguments prepared for this.” Sokka chuckles, as Zuko hands him the bags and stows them in one of the chests in the hold. “Hey you can’t laugh… Wait, second mate? Who’s first mate?”

“Me.” Katara appeared suddenly and threw the three bedrolls she had been carrying onto the deck of the ship, narrowly avoiding hitting Zuko with them. She grabbed onto the railing and swung herself onto the ship, waving her arms as she steadied herself. “I think that’s everything on your list, Sokka. Although I don’t understand how half of these things will be useful.”

“Good, now we just need to…” his voice drifts as he spots Lady Kanna riding full speed towards the docks. He exchanges a very concerned look with Katara. “We’re dead.” 

“I thought you said Gran-Gran would let us.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean that I asked her.” 

“Sokka!” Katara squeaks in indignation.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this.” Katara shakes her head in disagreement, mouthing her doubts. He pushes the bed rolls below the deck without stowing them properly, and jumps onto the dock. Spreading his arms wide and smiling he greets Lady Kanna. “Gran-Gran, funny seeing you here. Aren’t you in charge of the land brigade?”

The Lady Kanna stops her caribou right in front of Sokka, the “And what do you think you’re doing?” Sokka lifts a finger and opens his mouth before deciding it was better to keep quiet when she gave him a pointed look. She dismounts and undoes the bags attached to the saddle, motioning the big cat to sit. She smiles warmly as she holds up the bags. “You’ll need these.”

“Wait, you want us to go?” Sokka stands surprised at the support.

“I couldn’t stop you if I tried.” She cups Sokka’s chin in her hand - Zuko tries not to wince - and smiles at him and Katara. “And believe me I could give it a good try.” She pats his cheek twice. “You’re too much like me for your own good,” she smiles fondly at him before sighing. “Although I thought you would at least say goodbye to your dear grandmother.”

“Of course Gran-Gran.” Katara jumps down to the dock to give her grandmother a warm hug. They both pull Sokka in to join them, who hesitates for a second before hugging them both tightly. Zuko stands awkwardly on the boat.

She wipes at her eyes, drying tears. “Oh look at me, you two have turned me soft.” Sokka snorts and Katara scoffs at the admission.

“You, soft? Never.”

“All the same, I always knew you two would find your destinies far from home. It’s been so long since I’ve had hope. True real hope and you brought it back to life. My little waterbender. My brave warrior,” she takes Sokka and Katara’s hands. “Be good to each other. You deserve better than this.” She lets go of their hands as they nod. “Tell your father to write more, a mother worries.”

Sokka pats her back, as Katara boards the boat again. “Okay, Gran.” He throws the bags to Katara before heaving himself onto the boat. “Try to keep the South Pole in one piece while we’re gone.”

“Someone has to make sure there’s a place for you young ones to come back to. And Zuko,” she turns and addresses him. Acknowledging his presence for the first time.

“Yes, Lady Kanna?” He stands at attention.

“It’s Gran-Gran. Take care of my grandchildren.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nods respectfully.

“Or else.” She squints her eyes, looking to intimidate him. It works.

“Yes, Lady Ka-” She glares at him even harder. “Lady Gran-Gran.” She shrugs, laughing, accepting that’s the closest she’s ever going to get. 

Sokka and Katara quickly get the sails unfurled, and untie the ship from the dock. As the ship sails towards the horizon, they all wave their last goodbyes as Lady Gran-Gran’s figure gets smaller and smaller on the dock. She doesn’t stop waving as they turn their backs to the South Pole, and angle the sails to catch the wind better. Sokka slides down the mast that he had climbed to set up the sails, and moves to control the rudder. He angles them towards the direction that the advance team had reported the ship had gone, and commands Katara to let the mainsail loose to catch the wind, insisting that they’ll be able to catch up.

“Sokka, I admire your enthusiasm, but how exactly are we going to catch up to the warship? I know the  _ Ocean Glider _ is fast, but it’s not that fast.”

“I know my knowledge on the specifications of coal-powered ice-breakers is a hundred years out of date, but I can only imagine that they’ve gotten faster. And we need to go around the icebergs”

“Oh that’s the easy part, because so do they. And while we can do it at full speed, they need to slow down.” He fiddles around one of the bags that he’d left on the deck and pulls out a large metal bar with holes on either end.

“Is that one of the training bits? Nutha’s going to kill you when she finds out you took it. And I don’t understand how that’s going to help us catch up with the ship.”

“Yes. Also I didn’t take it. I asked first. And just wait, Zuko take over the rudder for a bit.” Zuko takes over the rudder, Sokka correcting his hold before walks over to the bow of the ship picking up various supplies from the different pouches on the deck. He ties rope through the holes in the bar so that it forms a stirrup. He then ties it to the bowsprit before presenting it to the rest of the group with a flourish. “Ta-da!”

“That’s a wonderful … doohickey. But I don’t think now is the time for arts and crafts.”

“I agree with your sister,” Zuko calls out from the back of the ship.

“It doesn’t look like much but when combined with a little seal jerky,” he fishes out seal jerky from his pockets and wraps it around the bit. “And a dragon who can fly out in front of us and pull,” he motions towards Druk, who had been lounging around on the deck. “We get a dragon powered boat.” 

He wiggles the jerky in front of Druk, coaxing him into putting the bit on, before cooing at him, and complimenting Druk on being such a good dragon. “I never thought I’d be doing this, for the record. But that takes care of our forward movement. Katara, you can use your waterbending to minimize the amount of boat that’s in the water, Zuko can handle the rudder, and I’ll pull the sails so that we can maneuver around the ice.”

“That’s actually surprisingly well-thought out.” Katara concedes. “It’s like what our Navy uses, just with less waterbenders.”

“Thanks- Hey.” Katara shrugs as she ties down the sail according to Sokka’s plan. “The hard part is figuring out how we’re going to take on a fully-equipped Fire Navy vessel with a half-trained waterbender -”

“Hey!” She throws a coil of rope at Sokka which he dodges.

“It’s true, and not your fault.” He continues to count their assets on his fingers. “A firebender of yet-to-be-determined skill; a dragon who has proven time and time again that his greatest skill is tackling me, specifically; and, the greatest tactical mind that ever graced the South Pole with their presence.”

“We left the Lady Gran-Gran on the docks.”

“I was talking about me.”

“No, he’s got a point, Sokka.”

“I hate both of you.”

Aided by Druk’s flying and Katara’s waterbending they make a quick pace through the ice field. Zuko’s not exactly sure what Sokka is doing with the sails, swinging them around wildly as Katara calls out directions from the front of the boat, but whatever it is, it is keeping them from hitting any of the icebergs. It’s mildly impressive. And if the wind wasn’t cutting and whipping into his face, Zuko would have probably enjoyed this. Sokka and Katara certainly were by the sounds of the whoops the two of them were making, and he was willing to bet that Druk was enjoying all the attention and praise they were showering him in. 

They smell the ship before they see it. Sokka had been right, they had slowed to all but a halt in order to be able to maneuver around the large blocks of floating ice. Zuko calls Druk back to the boat with a low whistle and unties him from the bit. Katara and Sokka take over maneuvering the boat beside the warship. Katara holds them in place as Sokka throws a grappling hook through one of the windows open on the lower deck, giving it a good tug to ensure that it will hold. Satisfied, he ties it to the  _ Ocean Glider _ , and Katara stops waterbending their boat. 

They drift alongside the warship as Sokka hooks another rope to the top of the deck with a well placed throw of his boomerang, he tugs the rope, tightening its grip before he turns to the other two. “Remember the plan, Zuko and I are going to cause a commotion. Katara, wake the flying bison.”

“Are we sure that’s going to work?” Katara voices her doubt of the plan.

“Gran-Gran said that the monk basically told her he could escape by himself if someone caused a distraction. We’re going to have to trust him to make good on his word. We go in, we make some noise, we go out. We try not to get burned to ashes in the process. Pretty straightforward.” Katara nods in agreement, and Sokka takes it as a cue to start climbing. 

Zuko follows close behind, stopping mid climb, as he notices Druk begin to whine and tries to follow him. He shushes him, looking down at his sad pouting face. “You don’t exactly blend in, we’ll be okay. Guard the boat, okay?” Druk whines a bit more, but sets himself down on the deck again, taking his charge very seriously. He keeps climbing, as Sokka slips above him slightly, squeaking indignantly, as they collide into each other. Sokka mouths  _ Sorry _ before Zuko shoves him upward onto the deck. They pull Katara up behind them and break off into their groups to wreak havoc on the ship.

***

Aang was below deck, it wasn’t the first time he had been inside the belly of a Fire Nation naval ship, and knowing himself, it wouldn’t be the last time. When you’re as old as he is, getting captured by the Fire Nation was a mark of honor, and he had many captures under his belt already. Nineteen, maybe? No, that was the number of ships he had blown up. He’d been captured by General Iroh before, and in his experience prisoners under General Iroh’s care were some of the best treated prisoners in the Fire Nation Navy. The food was good, and once a week you could listen in to the crew’s music nights. They’d gotten better over the years.

He might as well make himself comfortable before his escape attempts. He takes note that there are two guards in front of him and two are behind him, they’re all wearing their full armor and helmets. They seem new here, the old ones know better than to wear their helmets around him. He starts chatting idly about anything that comes to mind. The weather. Their day. Their love lives - he nudges one of the guards behind him with his shoulder, “I’m sure  _ you’ve _ got a special someone back at port.” That gets him shoved forward a bit, so he guesses that’s a sore subject. 

He switches to talking about their training, asking them about the new techniques that are coming out of the Fire Nation to deflect earth bending attacks. “That seems pretty useful, considering that’s where the bulk of you are fighting. Ever gone against an airbender before?” Silence, he takes that as an invitation to keep talking. “No? That’s too bad. Oh I bet I could have taken all four of you on with my hands tied behind my back in my younger days.” One of the soldiers grumbles at him to shut up. 

He ignores him with a smile. “Oh and if you haven’t fought against airbenders before, that means you haven’t seen a flying bison in proper flight.” He whistles. “That’s a real shame, they’re absolutely magnificent in the air. I do hope you get the chance to see that relatively soon.” The first pair of soldiers pass by an open porthole, a grappling hook is thrown in, hitting one of them in the helmet with a loud cling before landing on the floor. Maybe it was a good thing that they had worn helmets. The pair in front of him look at the hook, confused at its audacity, daring to lie at the center of the corridor. 

It get pulled back and lodges itself on the window, while the two in front of him fiddle with it, trying to dislodge it, the two behind him move to hold him in place. He decides to take the chance, and feigns a sneeze, inhaling deeply; and unleashes a powerful breath. The firebenders before him are pushed forward, slamming them into the door in front of them. He’s flung back several feet, slamming the two into the wall. All four of them crumple into heaps on the floor, stunned by the impact. 

Aang picks himself up, off the soldiers, with airbending, and fiddles through the pockets of one of them, producing a key. He unlocks his manacles, and gently drapes them on the chest of one of the soldiers. “Seems like I can still take on the four of you with my hands behind my back,” he kicks up his staff, and runs down the corridor back in the direction of the stairs that they had arrived from, producing an air scooter to carry him up the steps. He hears a hissing sound, and a large thud reverberates throughout the ship, the sudden lurch knocking him off the air scooter. He hears shouting from the deck and emergency sirens on the ship begin to blare.

***

Zuko was not prepared for the commotion to be using the only functioning catapult to launch a flaming fireball at the nearest ice shelf. He and Sokka were hiding behind the controls, and Sokka was very emphatically gesturing towards the loaded end of the catapult, punching the air with his fist. “You want me to what?”

“Light the Ball ON FIRE!” Sokka whispered enthusiastically. 

“The fact that you are enjoying this is actually quite disturbing.”

“Oh, shut up and let me have this.” He jumps out towards the side with a cry, drawing a club from who knows where, drawing the attention of some of the soldiers on deck with his sudden appearance. Two of the crewmen send blasts of fire Sokka’s way, but he dodges, jumping back and dropping with a yelp as the fire gets close to him. He recovers quickly and swings his club at them, Zuko can hear the air whistle around it with the power of Sokka’s swing, and the firebenders step back. 

Zuko takes the chance while they’re distracted to produce a small flame. The ammunition catches immediately, swallowed in the flames. The sudden blaze of light distracts the two firebenders, and Sokka takes the chance to press his advantage, knocking the firebenders down before retreating to meet him by the catapult. He starts winding it up, and juts his chin out to Zuko. “What are you waiting for? An invitation?” Zuko joins him, winding the catapult up as Sokka moves to aim it towards the towering iceberg on the side opposite to where their boat was docked. 

He releases the catapult with a lever, flinging the flaming fireball into the ice shelf. Large amounts of snow drop onto the ship, trapping some of the crewmates that had been called up to the deck. As they run towards the direction Katara had headed before, Sokka snaps several of the ropes on the mechanism of the catapult. Zuko pushes Sokka out of the way as the pair of firebenders fire jets of flame at them, punching his arm forward; releasing a powerful  _ blast of air _ in response. None of them expected that. The air cuts through and dissipates the flames, its strength sliding the opposing force back, and launching Zuko back. 

He collides headfirst into Katara, knocking both of them down. She angrily shoves him off of herself, before picking herself up and dusting herself off. Zuko tries to pick himself up, but his arms are weak, and he feels dazed, black spots clouding his vision.Sokka runs towards them, turns around and puts himself between his sister and the firebenders, putting his club up in a defensive position. Katara shoves him aside, uncorks her waterskin as the firebenders approach them menacingly. She precariously bends a stream of water out from her waterskin, and the men slow their approach, gasping in surprise. She whips her arm forward in an attempt to whip the water towards them, however she only succeeds in hitting Sokka in the head and dropping the water on the floor. He yelps and drops his club on his foot in surprise.

Zuko thinks he hears snickers from the men as they resume their approach. Katara gulps, turns around, her back facing them and draws another stream of water. She closes her eyes tightly, swings her arms behind her, and turns around to see the soldiers completely frozen in a casing of ice. One of them has his arm extended outward to her still twitching in an effort to grab her. She backs away slightly, before knocking on the arm of the frozen man, the ice holds. Satisfied, she walks back to Zuko and Sokka, helping Zuko up. Sokka rubs his head and his foot, glaring at his sister, she gestures at the frozen men, and Sokka concedes his respect. 

“So, are we going to talk about the fact that you just airbent or…”

“Sokka, I think we have bigger issues to worry about.” She points at the direction she had just run from. The airbender’s bison had not appreciated being woken up, and had decided to file his complaints with the crewmen that were currently attempting to tie it down. Sokka nods approvingly at Katara’s work. The bison swings around, knocking down various of the Fire Nation soldiers with his tail. He gets up on two of his legs, and grabs two of the soldiers with his paws, knocking them together, before dropping back onto its six feet and roaring. More snow falls from the iceberg. Sirens on the ship begin to blare.

“I think that’s a pretty good distraction. Come on.” He jerks his head back to where their rope hung. “We should go, before things get really serious.”

They run to the railing, reaching it only to witness the metal door leading below deck being ripped off its hinges by a powerful gust of wind. The airbender follows it, flying out on a ball of air, propelling himself towards the center of the deck. Several of the guards detach from trying to contain Appa and circle around the airbender. They alternate sending quick blasts of fire, but the airbender is too quick, even in his old age. He bobs and weaves, twisting and spinning out of the flames’ reach. He twirls his staff to deflect a blast he wasn’t able to dodge, and sweeps it out in front of him. A powerful wave of air knocks back all the incoming soldiers.

The three of them put up their arms to protect themselves from the biting wind, but are knocked back, over the railing. In a moment of clarity, he manages to grab onto the rope, and manages to slow his descent, the rope burning through his glove and cutting his hands. He grabs onto Katara as she falls past, wincing as the rope digs further into his palm. He heaves her toward the rope and she grabs it stunned, and turn to try and grab Sokka. He swings on the rope extending his arm as far as he can. It’s not enough. He closes his eyes and turns his head away, waiting for the splash.

It doesn’t come. Zuko turns, opening his eyes slowly to see Druk hovering in front of them, a very much alive Sokka dangling from the collar of his parka. “I take back every complaint I’ve ever said. You can use me as a seat cushion whenever you’d like. Although I would like to be put down.” Druk acknowledges the request and lands back on the ship, still holding Sokka’s jacket in his teeth as he and Katara slide down the rope to join him. 

Sokka pulls back the rope, catches his boomerang in one hand, and cuts them loose from the warship. Katara creates a large wave between the two vessels, separating the two, as Sokka opens the sails. Safely separated, their attention is pulled back to the ship as the fire blasts grow more fervent and furious. The bison takes off with a powerful leap and push of his tail, rocking the ship. The  _ Ocean Glider _ is tossed to and fro in the resulting waves, Katara and Sokka maintain their balance with an ease only gained through years of practice. Zuko is not so lucky. 

He stares up at the flying bison and hears the yell go out to reload and launch the catapult. Sokka’s face fills with glee as they load the machine, aim it, release it, and it snaps back into itself; triumphantly fist pumping in the air he lets out a whoop in excitement, Katara joining in his celebration. “That’s from the Water Tribe!” He turns away from the celebrating siblings and notices two figures standing on deck, synchronizing their bending to send out a powerful blast at the bison. The airbender leaps onto the saddle, swings his glider around, and uses a powerful swipe of air to redirect the blast into the already damaged cliff. It begins to crack on impact, and he holds his breath as the shouting and sirens are silenced. 

With a final loud crack, a large section of the ice cliff breaks off, avalanching onto the back of the ship and cutting off the path back to the South Pole. The bison circles back around the warship dipping down near their boat to avoid the onslaught of ice and snow. He kicks his tail down with a powerful push, creating a powerful gust that launches him high into the air and pushes their boat further away from the ship. The three of them stare up at the bison, tracking him until he disappears into the clouds.

“So, I guess we can’t exactly go back to the South Pole.” Katara forlornly at the now blocked passage back.

“Yeah.” Sokka rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t think Gran-Gran was expecting us back home any time soon,” he sighs, sitting down by the rudder. “Could be worse though.”

“How?” Zuko deadpans.

Sokka points up at the Fire Nation warship, still covered in ice and snow. “We could be on that ship.” He chuckles at his own joke, before turning to Zuko. “Why didn’t you tell us you were the Avatar? Would have been useful to know going into a fight.”

“It kinda just happened, and then I got trapped in an iceberg for a hundred years. Apparently I spent a week unconscious. And then it happened again. So I’m still in the middle of figuring out how all-” he gestures vaguely himself “- this works.” 

“You know, that’s pretty fair.” Katara places a comforting hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “You got a plan?” Zuko doesn’t respond. “Well, lucky for you, my brother-” she gestures at Sokka “-while lacking many talents-” Sokka shoots her a dirty look. “-is excellent at planning things. He is of course the, self-proclaimed, ‘greatest tactical mind the South Pole has to offer.’” Sokka beams at the compliment. 

“I’ll be right back!” Sokka quickly heads into the cabin and pulls out a world map, presenting it to the group. “ I used it to keep track of where dad’s been and mentioned in his letters, those are the circles on the map,” he gestures at the various port cities in the Earth Kingdom. “And the map’s out of date, so we should probably get a new one at some point. But it should work for now.” He presents the map to Zuko, holding it out in front of him. “So where to?”

Zuko scans the map, noting a few of the places that Sokka had circled and tracked the passage between. His eyes settle on a particular corner in the Southern portion of the map. He presses his finger to the map. “The Southern Air Temple.” Sokka raises an eyebrow. “I need to know what happened firsthand.” He nods.

“The Southern Air Temple it is,” he turns to Katara. “We’ll figure out the rest on the way.” He gestures towards Katara and she unfurls the sails, the wind filling them and pulling them forward as he turns the boat towards the open ocean. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you are interested in seeing the planning doc or something, hmu. 
> 
> Marks the end of what would have been episode 2 maybe. As always I love every comment I get. Hopefully this keeps chugging along at the same pace.


	7. The Southern Air Temple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the name of Iroh's ship was what took me the longest to figure out.

Sokka cast the line of his fishing rod into the ocean, he wasn’t expecting to catch anything, but had decided that it would be worth taking this chance to teach Zuko how to properly fish. It was a skill that would come in handy later when they would eventually dock in rivers. He reels back the line, and hands it to him, inviting him to try. They’d been doing this for the past hour. 

Not wanting to risk being spotted with a dragon pulling them forward - they had agreed to only use that particular method at night, when they’d be harder to spot - they spent most of the day drifting vaguely in the general direction of the Southern Air Temple. Sokka was better navigating at night anyways, with the stars to guide him. He watched Zuko throw out the line and decided that the technique was good enough for now. 

“Now you do that a hundred or so more times,” Zuko gave him an exasperated look. Sokka chuckles, “Don’t give me that look. You’re getting off lucky,” he picks up a net that had been a casualty in an unsanctioned game of tug-of-war with a dragon. Druk perks up at the sight of Sokka picking up the net and grabs the other side beginning to pull.

“No, not again. This isn’t a toy.” Druk pulls again, Sokka does not give. “This is our only good net.” The dragon pulls again. He makes direct eye contact with him, “Bad dragon.” Druk whines in sadness at the chastise but drops the net. He pouts, and even Sokka is not strong enough to resist the puppy eyes. “Fine. You win.” 

He pulls out a small fish from the bucket and wiggles it in front of Druk, Druk follows it and then makes eye contact with Sokka. Sokka flings it off the side of the boat. Druk darts after it, catching it before it hits the water, and returns, wrapping himself around the mast - his new favorite roosting spot - to devour his catch. Satisfied that Druk would not pull at the net again, Sokka digs out a knife from his boot and begins to clean the tear in the net.

“As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted. You’re getting off lucky. When Bato taught me how to fish, he had me doing this cast for weeks.”

“Bato?”

“Old family friend,” his voice drops. “Practically became like a second dad after  _ that _ day.” He focuses intently on the net, fiddling with one of the knots. There’s a bit of silence before he clears his throat. “But enough about me, what about you?” 

“Huh.”

“I mean, you don’t know how to fish, you nearly fainted when I told you about hunting. When I asked what skills you had, you asked me if  _ calligraphy _ counted. For the record I was asking about survival skills.” Zuko turns and opens his mouth to respond. “And before you say starting a fire, I still think that it only counts if you’re not a firebender to begin with.” Zuko shuts his mouth, mumbling something about  _ not needing to worry about that _ . “So if you didn’t learn any survival skills what exactly did you get taught?”

Zuko pauses before answering. “I can play tsungi horn pretty well.” Sokka gives him a questioning hum, and he turns to look at him. “No really.”

“I just didn’t take you as a musician type.” Sokka curses under his breath, he pricked his finger. He shakes his wrist before gently sucking on it. 

Zuko shakes his head. “I’m not.” Sokka makes a face at him, before sheathing his knife and sticking it back in his boot. “No really, it was part of my firebending training.” Sokka snorts. “Breath control is a really important part of mastering firebending.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Sokka waves his hand dismissively. “So what did you do for fun then?” 

“I, uh, you’ll think it’s stupid.” 

Sokka raised his eyebrows, “I just had a tug-of-war fight with a dragon over a net, I think my bar for stupid is pretty low.”

“I used to sneak around and climb the roofs of buildings.”

“The Fire Nation Royal Palace roofs,” Sokka whistles in approval. “Not bad. Must have the prettiest views in all the Fire Nation.”

“Ye- wait.” Zuko stopped talking, he didn’t know how Sokka knew that. He didn’t know how much Sokka knew. He thought it would be best to not talk anymore at the risk of Sokka learning exactly who he was. He glanced over at Sokka; he looked disappointed that Zuko had stopped talking. He chewed on his lip and was about to tell his favorite story, how he had found Druk’s egg, when his attention was drawn to the fishing rod which had begun to bend. “Uhh, Sokka.” No response. “The rod is bending,” he called out behind him.

“Congratulations, that means you’ve hooked onto something,” he made no motion to get up.

“Okay, so what do I do now?” Maybe Sokka just needed a little prompting.

“Wait, give in a little, pull. Let it play around a bit, and then reel it in.” He turned back to his net, the hole was considerably smaller now.

Following Sokka’s advice - even if it made no sense to him - he lets the fish tug for a bit, before suddenly pulling the rod back. A large fish is on the line, and in his excitement, Zuko reels it in quickly, yanking the rod back so hard he loses his balance. The fish is tossed into the air, landing on Sokka’s head before flopping down onto the deck. Attracted by all the noise, Druk notices the flopping fish and makes to grab it, Sokka snatches it away at the last minute before tossing it into the bucket, staring Druk down until he coiled himself around the mast again in defeat. 

“Go get Katara so we can cook this thing.” He returns to patching up the hole in the net, expecting Zuko to run off to do his bidding, unquestionably.

“Why?”

“Because I’m not going to start a fire without having a waterbender around to put it out.” He pauses for a second. “Especially not while on a wooden boat.” He doesn’t even lift his eyes from his work. Zuko frowns at the implication that he can’t control fire, but has learned from Katara that sometimes it’s easier to just listen to him now and yell at him later. Sokka grumbles under his breath as he jabs his finger with the needle again before shooting Druk a dirty look. “This is all your fault.” Druk just looks at him. “Oh don’t give me that-”

***

Upon Sokka’s declaration that they would have to begin fishing for food, Katara had decided to look through all their supplies - double-check if his verdict had been right. She loved her brother, so she could rightly say that his “fishing skill” was unreliable; sure he had days where he caught enough fish to feed most of the town by himself, but days when he didn’t get a single fish to bite were more common. If they had been closer to port, or anywhere near the Earth Kingdom she wouldn’t have been worried. But as far as she and Sokka knew, the area around the Southern Air Temple would be completely abandoned, so there was little chance of getting a proper resupply there.

She knew what she and Sokka had packed, she vaguely knew what had been in the pack that Kikaro had given Zuko - her oldest waterbending teacher had been remarkably thorough when they had packed for Zuko’s banishment. She sent up silent thanks to the Spirits for whatever Zuko had done to have been so quickly adopted by Kikaro, and also a silent thanks for Kikaro themself. Even now, they were keeping the promise they had made to Dad all those years ago.

She opened the bags that Gran-Gran had given them, wondering what exactly she thought would be important on their adventures. She laid it all out before her. Some of it had made sense: Extra money; Their formal clothing; The clothing and armor they had found Zuko in; First Aid supplies and what she recognized as burn ointment; And a book on common plants found in the Earth Kingdom. Some made very little sense: A Pai Sho tile. And some were just sentimental.

She put the clothing on their respective hammocks, the boys could deal with packing their own clothing later, and Sokka would likely be glad to get his clothing back now that they had some for Zuko. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Zuko’s personal bag, it was the bag they had found with him in the iceberg. She picked it up, it was much lighter than any of the others that they had, it was also of remarkable quality, embroidered with red, black and gold. She hears Sokka arguing with the dragon, it had become his favorite pastime in the last few days. 

She opens it, it’s scantily packed. She pulls out a jar, it’s unlabeled but looks familiar. She unscrews the lid and takes a quick whiff, gagging at the smell.  _ Definitely burn ointment, _ the smell alone is usually deterrent enough for people to avoid getting burns altogether. She squints at the unblemished surface.  _ The nut-brained dunderhead hasn’t even been taking care of his burn like he was instructed to _ . She had already yelled at him for trying to hide that he had gotten rope burns while escaping the warship, before she had wrapped his hands in bandages and threatened to wash the next wound she discovered rather than was told about in sea water. It was Gran-Gran’s favorite threat, and had always worked on Sokka. She’d add it to the list of things to bring up later. 

She dug around the satchel more, there wasn’t much. A pouch of coins that she didn’t recognize, a few sealed rolled up scrolls, and something wrapped in something soft.  _ Whatever he had run from a hundred years ago, he really only left with the clothes on his back. _ She pulls out the package and holds it in the palm of her hand, it’s small. Whatever it is, it has been wrapped in a black handkerchief, soft to the touch.  _ Is this silk? _ It’s been embroidered in the same fashion as the satchel, a pair of raid dragons intertwining around themselves releasing plumes of rainbow-colored flames. She moves to finish unwrapping the item when she’s interrupted by Zuko’s voice.

“Hey Katara, Sokka wants you on the deck while we cook the fish,” he’s walking down the steps into the cabin. “Says he ‘doesn’t want to start a fire without a waterbender to put it out.’ As if I can’t put out a fire that’s firebending ba-” He stops mid-sentence when he realizes that she’d gone through his stuff. He steps forward and pulls everything from her hands before aggressively shoving his things back into his bag. The handkerchief slips for a moment and she catches a glimpse of a metallic gold.

“It’s not nice to go through other people’s personal things, Az. You should know better.” Turning away from her and gathering the other things that he’s identified as his before shoving them all together onto the hammock he’d claimed. 

“Who’s Az?” He turns to her, face reddening as he realizes his mistake.

“No one of consequence.”

She crosses her arms. “You know you’re bad at lying.”

He ignores the jab. “Sokka wants you on deck.” She doesn’t move. “Now, preferably.” She rolls her eyes but turns to climb up the steps. Once she leaves, he takes a look around the cabin and notes that she had gone through everyone’s things. He looks at the silk wrapped item, and stuffs it in his pocket before he joins Katara and Sokka on the deck. 

Sokka proudly holds up the bucket of fish that they’d spent most of the morning catching. It was remarkably much fuller now than when he had gone below to grab Katara. He catches half of their conversation “- remarkably easier to work with after a few bribes.”

“And by bribes you mean?”

“Fish. I mean fish.” The boat rocks wildly, sending them all reeling for their balance as they had collided with a small rock, jutting out from the ocean. They all quickly move to get the boat to stop, or at the very least drift even more slowly. “How come neither of you warned me that there was a…”

He stops talking, jaw dropping. “What?” Sooka pulls Zuko towards him and turns him around. “Whoa,” Zuko also stands mesmerized at whatever had gotten their attention. 

Sokka lifts up a finger and points in response to Katara’s attempts to get his attention. She rolls her eyes, but turns to look at whatever her Rising high into the sky, breaking through the thick ocean fog was a series of steep mountain peaks and rock pillars. They had arrived at the Patola Mountain Range. Built into the sides of the sheer cliff faces was part of the Southern Air Temple. Its decorated blue spires jutting upward, supported by the mountain itself.

“It looks like it’s built into the mountains. Or like the spires and buildings grew out of the mountains.” She’s the first one to regain her voice. “It’s breathtaking.”

“There doesn’t seem to be any place for us to properly dock. Or any path up to the temple. How exactly are we going to get up there?” Sokka ever the realist breaks the awed silence that had settled between them. She’s annoyed at her brother for tearing her attention away from the magnificent architecture, but he’s right.  _ How would we be able to get up there in the first place _ . Surprisingly, it is Zuko who has a plan.

“I didn’t exactly plan to get here by boat,” Katara and Sokka whip around to face him. “Druk usually can’t carry more than two people long distances. But I think he can handle the three of us for a little bit at least, and it’s not that long of a distance.” 

Which is how she found herself strapped onto a dragon, smushed between her brother and Zuko, clinging on for dear life as Druk flies them up the mountain. Although “flying” would be too generous of a word to use for whatever it was Druk was doing. There was certainly more jumping and falling involved, some gliding, and an awkward shuffling climb than any actual flying.

***

Lieutenant Jee had expressed his doubts when his General had ordered them to find a friendly port for them to dock at. No doubt their most recent failure would make the rest of the Fire Nation military less than thrilled to see them, but they had no choice. After purging their ship of ice and snow from the avalanche - which had taken the better part of a day, and nearly given two of the crew members frostbite after having been frozen by the attacking waterbending force - they had the unfortunate luck of running into an Earth Kingdom convoy. Jee thanks Agni above that  **the Dragon’s Breath** , despite being an outdated model, was still the fastest ship outside the domestic fleet. 

The short engagement with the enemy ships, sans catapults due to their little adventure in the poles, had ended quickly as they were able to outpace them, albeit it had left them in worse shape than Jee and the General were comfortable with. After a long and brutal battle with the ship’s engine and the various spare parts that they could scrounge from the ship - the most memorable being the Cook’s favored pan used to hold a pipe in place - their engineer had thrown in the towel and declared that he would refuse to do any more work to maintain the ship until proper supplies and parts were acquired. Going so far as to threaten to jump off the deck and swim to shore if necessary. 

They liked their engineer, he was a lovely addition to Music Night, and his skill rivaled many of the senior engineers in charge of the domestic factories. The fact that he had managed to keep this particular ship running with very little outside support was testament to his skill. So they had agreed to make for port. Despite them hating it.

This particular port was a newly acquired stronghold for the Fire Nation, they had gotten word of its existence via messenger hawk only a few days ago. Although that might be more a result of them not being on the best terms with the rest of the Fire Nation hierarchy than anything else. It had been months since they had seen another Fire Nation vessel, he had forgotten how large regular warships were. The Dragon’s Breath was dwarfed by the other warships, they towered over it, their commanding officers leering down on it. 

The crew had assembled on deck as per the General’s command, and they had been anxiously awaiting orders when he stepped out. He clears his throat, “Finish your tasks quickly and return to the ship. If anyone asks what happened, direct them to ask Lieutenant Jee or me,” his voice ringing out clear and true.

A chorus of  _ yessirs _ responded, as the engineer took over, divided the crewmen into groups and sent them on their way after assigning each party a particular part or tool that they should get. After the groups had been sent out, he marched off in search of some of the rarer parts that he’d have to haggle with other ships’ engineers for. The cook had also set off in search of more spices, they had complained about the dishes not tasting quite right ever since they ran out of some things. Jee couldn’t tell the difference, but liked his nose the way it looked, so he didn’t say much.

Soon the only people left on the ship were General Iroh and himself. He, as the ship’s captain, dutifully took his spot at the foot of the walkway at the dock, hands behind his back and standing guard. He catches General Iroh walking down from the corner of his eye. He stops in front of him. “Lieutenant Jee,” he nods in acknowledgement. “I hope it would not trouble you too much if I asked you for an escort while about the port?”

“Sir?” 

“I have a bad feeling about this place. Call it what you want; I don’t trust this port. I’d like someone to watch my back.” He whispers so that only he can hear. 

“Yessir. Of course, sir. No trouble at all.”

“Wonderful!” He claps his hands in excitement, before walking off quickly. Jee has to jog to catch up, not realizing that he had already left. They don’t manage to get very far before they are stopped by an officer. High ranking by the trim on his uniform.

“General Iroh!” He recognizes that voice, and stops himself from visibly flinching from it. General Iroh had been right to not trust this port.

“Lieutenant Commander Zhao, what a  _ pleasure _ to see you.” General Iroh greets the man through gritted teeth and a convincingly real smile. 

“The pleasure is all mine,  _ sir _ . The Fire Lord’s brother is a welcome guest anytime.” He boes slightly in the General’s direction, ignoring Jee completely. “What brings you to my harbor?”

“Your harbor?”

“I’m certain it must be a very important reason.” Zhao continues to ignore Jee. “Certainly the damage on your ship would warrant docking at a harbor much closer to the Fire Nation.”

“What damage?” Zhao gestures at their ship. “Oh that, the ship has definitely seen worse and still won engagements,” he waves his hand dismissively. “I can assure you of that.” Jee remembers those times, not fondly. The  _ Dragon’s Breath _ had certainly earned his respect though. The General glances over at Jee before gesturing towards Zhao. “Lieutenant Jee, why don’t you tell him what happened to our ship.” 

He looks at his commanding officer in a way that he hopes communicates  _ ‘with all due respect sir, are you sure you’re not crazy?’ _ Iroh shrugs in response. “You’re much better at giving reports than I am, Jee.”

“What?” Iroh glares at him. “Of course sir.” He bows his head slightly at Zhao as he composes himself quickly. “We crashed.”

“You crashed?”

“Yes.” Zhao looks at him, asking for more information. “Into an iceberg.” Jee would not give him the satisfaction of getting information out of him. 

“Must have been some iceberg.” Zhao strokes his beard thoughtfully, mimicking the gesture that the General often makes.

“They are much faster than you would think.” He pauses, before adding “Sir.” He bows again slightly, marking the end of the conversation. He tries not to take too much pleasure in the annoyance that flashes on Zhao’s face at not having learned anything. Resigned to not being able to glean any more information from Jee, he switches tactics.

“Well you must certainly regale me with all the  _ thrilling _ details. The information would certainly be useful for our other ships, should we ever go near the polar regions. Perhaps I could interest you in a drink?” General Iroh begins to shake his head but is cut off as Zhao continues louder, so that the surrounding officers could overhear. “Surely the great General Iroh, brother of our esteemed Fire Lord, would do me the great  _ honor _ -” the venom in his voice is quite clear to Jee. “- of joining me for a cup of tea.”

Several of the surrounding officers had stopped, the noise catching their attention, waiting to see how this particular battle would turn out. General Iroh took one look around him and sighed in defeat. I’m sure WE,” he glances over at Jee, practically begging him to not leave him alone. Jee nods. “Would be able to join you for some tea.” He finishes his sentence begrudgingly.

“Wonderful,” he starts leading them towards one of the larger ships. “If I recall ginseng is your favorite.” Iroh nods.

“Would you have jasmine? That’s my favorite.” Jee sighs, if he’s going to get roped into having to interact with Zhao more than absolutely necessary, he is going to get a decent cup of tea out of it. Maybe a few of the fancy pastries if he got lucky and really pushed his luck.

Zhao drops all presumed niceties. “I don’t care.” Jee catches the side eye that the General gives Zhao’s callous disrespect. It was going to be an interesting cup of tea, an entertaining one if not a tasty one.

***

They took a break on one of the flats, they had nearly reached the temple, but Druk had started to struggle on the climb and Zuko had ruled that he had earned a break. Katara had readily pushed Sokka off the makeshift saddle in order to reacquaint herself with blessed ground. She had been through blizzards on a boat, and done remarkably well, but she did not like the experience of her feet not being on something solid, especially when there was nothing like rails to prevent you from slipping. 

Sokka teased her about how she practically hid her face in Zuko’s back, but Katara had seen how his knuckles had gone white, gripping Zuko’s arms with fear, as he had created a pseudo cradle to support her. Zuko made no mention of the bruises that would form from Sokka’s grip, they were both thankful for that. They both had a newfound respect for Zuko, he had apparently done this before, for long stretches of time, and even in a storm. 

Sokka pulled some blubbered seal jerky and offered a stick to her, she didn’t take it, still too queasy to be able to eat anything. He shrugs and sticks some in his mouth chewing thoughtfully on it.

“Why are you eating twigs?”

“It’s food.” Sokka mumbles through another mouthful of jerky. Sokka laughs as Katara tries to swat his hand away from his mouth. 

“That’s food?” He replies doubtfully. “You’re sure about that?” Sokka nods. “That looks more like what you’d use to start a campfire than something you’d eat.”

“Why don’t you try it?” He offers up a piece before pulling it back, fixing an eye on him. “Or are your Fire Nation taste buds too delicate for the exquisite goodness of Southern Water Tribe cuisine?” 

Zuko glares at him before deliberately sticking his palm out, demanding that Sokka put jerky in it. He tentatively puts it in his mouth, his bravery waning as Katara and Sokka spectate, arms crossed and sly smiles exchanged between the two. He chews thoughtfully for a moment, before making a disgusted face. Seeing Sokka and Katara’s amusement, he continues to chew until he can stomach it no more and spits it out. Katara and Sokka burst into laughter as Zuko tries to rid his mouth of the taste.

“Knew you couldn’t handle it,” Sokka manages to get out between the bouts of laughter.

“Okay that’s enough Sokka,” Katara shoves him playfully as he wipes his eyes and clutches his sides. “You know it’s an acquired taste.” She shoots a sympathetic smile at Zuko, who was still trying to scrub the taste off his tongue.

“What are you talking about? It’s an absolute delicacy, marching rations.” He says between bites of the jerky. He holds up a piece to Druk who takes it happily, seeming to enjoy the salty taste very much. “See, Druk likes it,” gesturing at the dragon.

As Sokka begins to fiddle with the makeshift saddle on Druk, trying to make it more comfortable for the rest of the ride up the mountain, she walks towards Zuko, testing out different ways to try and explain in the best and most succinct way possible what had happened in the last hundred years. She rehearses a few in her head.

_ Hey Zuko, so you should probably know that the Fire Nation, you know the place where you’re from, perpetrated a massive genocidal effort against the Air Nomads; not even getting into the more recent efforts of trying to take over the Earth Kingdom, attempting to attack the South Pole, and - if the rumors are true - setting up specific task forces to round up any and all suspected airbenders. It’s possible that not only will there be no one at the Air Temple, but that we’ll encounter a lot of dead bodies and skeletons. Just a heads up.  _ No that’s too blunt.

_ A lot can change in a hundred yea- _ no. That just feels wrong. The brutality of what they did in the past, what they’re still doing is not something that she can sugarcoat. And even if she could, she wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to the people who have suffered and died at their hands if she did. They deserved better. She sighs still trying to piece together how to say it as she approached him. She takes in a deep breath and decides to just go for it.

“Before we get to the temple, I want to talk to you about the Air Nomads.”

“What in particular?” His tone is hesitant, like he has the feeling that he’s about to get chastised and lectured. And while she did have one of those scheduled for him - particularly about how exactly is he going to take care of the world as Avatar when he’s not even taking care of himself - this wasn’t supposed to be a lecture. More a warning than anything else.

“I- You should be prepared for what you might see. The Fire Nation is ruthless,” she clasps her mother’s necklace. “They attacked the South Pole, they killed my mother, they’ve attacked countless of defenseless Earth Kingdom villages. And all that… barely scratches the surface of what they did, what they’re still doing, to the Air Nomads.”

Zuko nods, and bites his lower lip, chewing on his thoughts. When he speaks it’s so soft Katara almost doesn’t catch it. “I understand. I need to see it myself. See all the things I need to fix. It’s my duty as…” She doesn’t catch the last bit, he mumbles it out. She notices that he’s always hesitant to admit that he’s the Avatar. She’s about to bring it up when Sokka calls them over, declaring their break over. 

They settle back onto Druk, and whatever Sokka did to the saddle she’s thankful for, it’s much more comfortable now. And Sokka had even been able to get enough slack in the rope that he was able to tie her onto the dragon. They barely have a few seconds to settle in - Sokka insisting that she still rides between him and Zuko, as well as grabbing onto Zuko directly and pressing them in together much closer than was necessary (if you asked her) - when Zuko clicks his tongue and Druk shoots upward, continuing their upward climb. She leaves her stomach on the flat, and wonders how Sokka’s is faring after stuffing himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated because I like building things together and weaving in snippets so feel free to leave things; the more the merrier.
> 
> I'd also like to thank the comments so far. I know I've said it before but they really make my day. 
> 
> I'm working on my pacing skills so this chapter may feel a bit slow action-wise but I'm hoping the introspection into the characters makes up for that. I'd love to get some feedback if any of you are interested and are able to.
> 
> I'm also curious on people's thoughts in terms of the breaks between chapters, do those seem like good spots?


	8. Chapter 8

_ He didn’t even let me add sugar to make this more palatable. _ Jee tries to prevent his face from betraying his thoughts, bitter as this tea. He wouldn’t put it past Zhao from purposefully over steeping his tea as some form of petty power play. He tentatively takes a sip,preventing himself from gagging he decides to end his suffering and drains the tea in one swig . He puts the cup down and continues to listen to Zhao’s drones and praises of the Fire Nation’s military conquests.

“... And with the new fleet of improved warships we’ll be able to finally beat back the Water Tribe savages. An effort being led by me, of course. Once they are out of the picture, all of our forces will be able to double down on our stranglehold on the Earth Kingdom, and by the year’s end, the Earth Kingdom capital will be under our rule. The Fire Lord will finally claim victory in this war.” Zhao’s eyes soften for a split second as he looks at them, concern for the General apparent in his face. “It’s not too late to join us. Your expertise in battle and familiarity with Earthbender tactics would hasten our inevitable victory. You’d be given a hero’s welcome back home.” His voice sounds sincere, surprisingly.

He sips his tea in the prevailing silence, purposefully ignoring Zhao’s offer. “If my brother thinks the rest of the world will follow him willingly and the war will end upon the capture of Ba Sing Se, then he is a fool.” He pauses thoughtfully as he blows on his tea, looking directly at Zhao. “As is anyone who follows him unquestioningly.”

“You would call the entire Fire Nation foolish?” He does not answer. “That borders on treason, sir.” He’s shocked by the casual certainty that he had used, and by Jee’s lack of comment. 

“Really? It’s … hard to keep track of all the things one can and cannot say … especially when you’re given a never ending task.” He punctuates his words with sips of tea.

“Speaking of your mission, one of our most recent raiding parties uncovered an entire brigade of airbenders.” The General raised an eyebrow but made no motion to ask questions or speak at all. “They put up quite a fight, but naturally our superior forces were able to take them down quite quickly.”  _ He’s fishing for a compliment _ . “They’re currently being housed in the brig of my capital ship.” He turns to look out at the hallway, and closes the door.

He glances wildly around, checking once again if there was anyone other than the three of them in the small room. He glances at Jee, before turning to General Iroh, he tilts his head towards Jee.  _ Oh, he’s asking if the General trusts me. _ Iroh nods in response. “I haven’t yet reported that we’d captured the airbenders to central command. It would be very easy to have them  _ accidentally _ transferred over to your ship.” His whispering is urgent.

“That won’t be necessary.” His voice is firm. Jee, confident that he would be able to handle himself against Zhao, begins to inspect some of the decorative elements that Zhao had put up on his walls. The weaponry was an interesting choice, although useless in a real fight as the blades had been dulled.

“But si-”

“That’s quite enough.”

“Sir, with all due respect, when was the last time you successfully captured  _ and _ delivered an airbender to central command?” He doesn’t answer.  _ Too long ago by the sound of this conversation _ . “There hasn’t been any reports of a successful capture from you in nearly a year. The higher ups are getting concerned. There are rumors, General, rumors.”

“ _ Retired  _ General.” He insists.

“So then the rumors are true. The Great Dragon of the West died at Ba Sing Se,” Jee drops the spear he had been examining at the mention of Ba Sing Se. His words were bitter now.  _ Don’t finish that- _ “Unable to cope with the dishonor of abandoning his post. What’s left is a broken husk of a man whose own incompetence led to the death of-” 

Before Jee gets the chance to stop Zhao from speaking, using his preferred method of applying a flaming fist directly to face, General Iroh cuts Zhao off. “You need not remind me of Ba Sing Se. The scars do plenty of that without your words. Perhaps you too could do with a few scars to remind you of the virtue of knowing when to stop.” The threat hung between them. The General’s eyes had lost all semblance of the kindness that Jee had come to expect. They were the eyes of a man that had lost everything, and still stood to fight.

Jee knew that General Iroh would not actually engage in an Agni Kai against an opponent he could so easily crush. Zhao did not. And while Zhao could be an arrogant fool, blinded by his own quest for glory, even he paled at the mere threat of a challenge of a firebending duel against the Dragon of the West. He smiles at Zhao. “Then again, perhaps not,” he leans back and finishes his tea. 

“Thank you for the tea, mine was delicious.” He stands to leave, motioning Jee to join him. “I recommend expanding your horizons. Your current collection is very limited. Diversifying your flavors will make your experience more well-rounded. There are several Earth Kingdom varieties which are quite robust and would potentially be to your liking, since you seem to be a fan of bitter teas.” He dusts off his armor, pulling at a thread. Zhao stands to escort them, but he waves him away. “No, no. I know how to get off of one of these ships. I used to command one.” Zhao sits back down as they leave the room.

When they are far enough away from Zhao and various prying ears the General thanks him for joining him. “I wouldn’t have been able to handle that situation with grace and dignity had you not been there to temper my temper.” Jee’s confusion must have been apparent in his face. “You may think you did nothing, but you did quite a lot. To show my gratitude, how about I give you the chance to get a proper cup of tea? I saw a nice little shop near where we stationed our vessel.” 

***

As Druk climbed over the last edge of the mountains, the sheer size of the spires became clear to Sokka. He had thought that the Temple was the single blue spire that they had seen from the boat, and that had already impressed him. He had been wrong. What he had thought were rock spires that had coincidentally surrounded the temple proper from a distance were actually more of the temple, disguised to look like the mountains surrounding them. Up close they could admire the subtle whorls gently carved and painted onto the sides. There are piles of snow everywhere even though autumn hasn't even begun to settle in.

A cold breeze blows through them, stirring up the dead leaves scattered on the floor. It’s eerily silent. Zuko remembers Katara’s words, warning him that he might not like what he finds.  _ Some of them have to have survived _ . He assures himself of that.  _ They’re nomads, if they weren’t here during the attack then they would have survived, and then some of them could even still be living here. _

“Just be prepared if there aren’t any Air Nomads here, okay?” Katara seems to be able to read his thoughts sometimes. He’ll have to guard his thoughts a bit better from now on. Just in case. 

“I sent them a message before Druk and I left. Or at least I sent the Western Temple a message using a Royal Fire Hawk. I even got the Hawk Master to mark the message as urgent.”

“That’s an entirely different temple.” 

“I know, but I’m sure they got the message. I hoped the other temples did too.” He sighs. “It’s just so quiet here. If there were any Air Nomads here it would be loud and bustling.”

“How would you know?”

“They visited the Fire Nation a bunch of times.” Sokka looks at him incredulously. “No really.” He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not all bad. I remember when a bunch of monks from the Southern Air Temple actually came to visit the P- the Royal Family. It was a pretty big deal.” He remembered it very well. Az had called it the Pie Incident. 

It was a small group but a very loud group. There had been maybe a total of six monks ranging in age, with the youngest having to have been no older than twelve. His age had struck him because even the child had the blue arrows of an airbending master tattooed on his forehead. They had taken over the kitchen exiling Chef Ming - she had not been happy about that, and spent the whole day cooking. 

He and Az had snuck away from their firebending lessons and had spent the afternoon hiding in the kitchens and on the roofs. Giggling over the small army of monks in the kitchen and all their cooking and singing. The kid had spotted them, shot up to join them on the roof and promptly asked them if they wanted to see an airbending trick. He spun a marble really fast in his palms so that it levitated without waiting for an answer, and talked the entire time. Until the head monk had called out for him. He introduced himself as Aang, bowed, and launched himself off the roof with an airblast before landing on a ball of air and riding it back into the kitchen.

They had gotten scolded by the head guard for disappearing, and had been quickly ushered to dinner, which had been an unusual affair. There had been no meat, but Zuko had eaten some of the best vegetables in his life that night. Many of the noble families had been invited, and even General Roku had paid them a visit. He always liked it when General Roku visited. The dinner table had never been so lively and warm, even the political conversations had an air of joking and familiarity in them. And then came dessert. 

“They made the best fruit pies.” He admitted, he had gotten a face full once.

Sokka became excited at the concept of fruit pies, and Katara elbowed him, muttering about the sanctity of the place and how he should be honored to even be able to step foot here. Her stomach betrays her thoughts with a large grumble. She purposely avoids Sokka’s smug face as he hands her some of the seal jerky. 

They set off exploring the grounds, making their way to a central courtyard. Weeds cover most of the stone paths, and even a few of the statues of monks were slowly being swallowed by the surrounding vegetation. One statue stood apart from the others, erected in the center of the rock garden that comprised most of the courtyard. It was a statue of an eldely man with a mustache and a disting round necklace emblazoned with the airbending symbol on it. He looked oddly familiar to Zuko. And then it clicked.

“He had a pie thrown at him during dinner!” He cries out, pleased with his realization. 

The kid - Aang- had sneezed during dinner, accidentally launching one of the fruit pies into the monk’s face with airbending, and everyone from the Fire Nation at the table had frozen in absolute mortification. The monk had quietly rubbed some of the pie filling away from his face and with a flick of his wrist had sent several of the other pastries flying at Aang. Some of the pastries hit their mark, covering the young boy in cream. The two started cackling uncontrollably. Others had not been as accurate, one of them had hit General Roku between the eyes, leaving a pink jelly stain on his forehead. 

The entire table went silent as General Roku gingerly wiped the jelly off of his forehead, and then examined it on his fingers. He slurped the offending jelly, and mulled over it for a minute, thinking something over. The tension in the table had been unbearable as they waited for a verdict.  _ “Can I have another one, please?” _ Zuko breathed a sigh of relief, as the goofy laughter began to overtake the table once more. Aang had lifted up another one of the pastries with an air ball-  _ “On the plate and not my face if possible”  _ -and gently deposited it on his plate. 

“And why were You at a dinner at the Fire Nation Palace?” Katara asks.

“I uhh,” curses why did the two of them have to be so astute. He looked around trying to spot something, anything that could distract them. There to his right, a large series of tall poles. “Oh look, that must be some kind of airbending training device.” He tried unenthusiastically, begging Agni above that they would catch the hint that he really didn’t want to talk about that. “Maybe if we climb up the trees we’d get a better look, maybe feel some sort of connection with airbending?” He’s desperately grasping at any chance to change the subject.

The siblings exchange a look. “That’s not how it-” Katara glares at her brother again. He sighs in defeat. “Okay. I’ll climb the tree with you. But I won’t be happy about it.” He shoots back a glare at his sister. “Will you be joining us?”

“No. I think I’m going to do some more exploring around the temple by myself.” She heads off in the direction of the main temple. “Try not to hit your head too hard when you fall.”

“Love the vote of confidence.”

Zuko is already halfway up one of the trees by the time Sokka turns around. He looks up the tree to Zuko’s retreating form and sighs once more. “You guys really just like getting me out of my element, don’t you?” He mumbles under his breath as he wraps his arms around the tree and tries to shimmy up as Zuko jumps from one tree to the next. He’s pretty far up the tree when the branch he was using to pull himself up snaps. He tumbles down the tree trunk, landing in a pile of snow with a groan.

The sound of Sokka’s yelp caught Zuko’s attention. He looked down to see a large tree branch land on Sokka, wincing at the impact. He slides down the side of the tree trunk, pulls the tree branch off Sokka, and helps sit him up. 

“The Spirits really hate me. That’s got to be the only reason.” He rubs the back of his head and points a finger at Zuko. “Katara doesn’t know about this, got it?” He nods, and extends a hand to pull Sokka up. He begins to brush snow off himself, waving Zuko to stop trying to help him. “You sure you’re not secretly part spider-monkey?” 

“No. General Roku,” Sokka cocked an eyebrow at the mention of the name. “Always asked the same thing though. And then used to say ‘At your lowest point you can only rise.’ Before asking me to help him up.” He said the proverb in a low gravelly voice, doing his best impersonation of him.

“Am I supposed to take that literally or what?”

“I don’t actually know. He just said it, all the time. It kind of just stuck.”

“Well did you at least ‘connect’ -” he makes air quotes with his finger “- with airbending?” He punches the air, mimicking the movement he had made back on the Fire Nation ship. No gust of air, not even a little puff. He shakes his head. “Great, I fell out of a tree for nothing.”

“You didn’t fall out of a tree, you technically weren’t in the…” The look Sokka gives him makes it clear that he’d be better off if he didn’t finish that sentence. He rakes his brain for anything to say. He’s saved by Katara calling for them to check something out with her.

***

Having left her brother and - she’s not exactly sure what to call their current relationship with Zuko. Their charge? That seems about right. Having left them to their own devices to climb a tree, which she regretfully has to miss, she takes to exploring the temple. She didn’t want to bring up the elephant-rhino that had been hanging over their trip. She tolerated Zuko’s insistence that there had to be people still living here, only because she still hadn’t figured out how to fully explain everything that had happened in the last hundred years. She kind of hoped that Sokka would do some of the talking for her too. 

They had learned that the four Air Temples had been abandoned early on in the War, they were no longer safe refuges for the Air Nomads. She looks over the many murals and mosaics that they had built into every inch of their home, realizing it must have been hard for them to abandon it. Some of them had been almost completely destroyed by what she recognized as fireballs. She pressed her palm against the remains of a ruined mural which had, no doubt, recorded important Air Nomad history, now lost. She didn’t know what she would do if anyone had dared to do the same to the ice carvings beneath the South Pole.

She swallowed her rage, there would be plenty of chances for her to be angry later. Right now, she just had to find any sign of someone being at the temple recently. She avoids the area she determines to be the dormitory, she knew the Fire Nation’s tactics, and even if it had been decades she doubted she had a strong enough stomach to deal with anything that those rooms could contain. Sokka had sat alone on the ice cliff overlooking the icy bay when Gran-Gran had finally allowed him to read the first reports that they had gotten from when they had sent out a reconnaissance party to the Southern Air Temple nearly a hundred years. Whatever he had read had shaken him so deeply that he had refused to eat for a few days, and she wasn’t prepared to see the remains of that first hand.

Her wandering was short-lived as her attention was drawn towards an intricate door. A tree had been planted at the top, and its roots surrounded the door, the tree’s canopy had been trimmed to grow outward to join the stone to form a roof. An elaborate combination of folded metal pipes, chipped paint faded with time, was attached to the front of the door in the shape of a circle. Three distinct faded blue pipes were rolled into whorls forming the semi-recognizable symbol for airbending.

Whatever is behind the door must be important. She takes a closer look and finds that it had been left slightly open. The space between the door and the door frame is too small for her to fit through, which meant that Sokka and Zuko wouldn’t fit. She pushed against it, testing how much strength she’d have to use. It didn’t budge. She threw herself at the door. Nothing but a sore shoulder she was now cooling with water. Defeated, she sighed and resigned herself to using her secret weapon. 

She turns to face the courtyard, takes a deep breath and calls out to Sokka with a temptation he very rarely can refuse. “Sokka! Come look at this cool door lock mechanism thing!” She settles down on the floor to wait for her brother to come inevitably charging towards her, Zuko in tow. 

He coos over the intricacies of the door, thinking out loud as to how it would be able to be unlocked. He had brought a stick with him and had begun poking at the various pipes with it, while scratching his chin pensively. “I think we can unlock it with airbending.”

“I figured that much out, genius.”

He ignores his sister’s jab. “If only we had someone who could airbend on command.” He looks over at Zuko who sheepishly refuses to make eye contact with him. “Well we can always try Gran-Gran’s method.” That caught the attention of both of them. “Good old-fashioned brute force.” He cracked his knuckles for emphasis.

They line up against the door and push on Sokka’s cue, the door gives in slightly but still not enough for them to get in. Not about to be defeated by a door, Sokka examines the door again, looking closely at the frame. He holds his hands up to measure the distance that the door was opened, and brings his hands up to his face. Katara can practically hear him thinking. His eyes go wide with realization. He rushes off with a promise of being back and mentions something about a tree branch and the Spirits. She looks over to Zuko who just shrugs.

“Don’t ask me, he’s your brother. So waterbending...” She doesn’t deign that with an answer, and Zuko catches on to her not wanting to speak with him. They sit together in an awkward silence after that. They wait for Sokka to get back and jump to help him drag up the tree branch the last few final steps at the sound of his ragged breathing. He lodges it into the crack, wiggling it in a bit to make sure that it’s in the right position, explaining his idea.

“...We don’t need to open it completely, just need to trick the mechanism into thinking it’s being opened. Then it should just open itself. Theoretically. I hope.” Sokka’s had crazier plans that worked before, and this one actually made sense to her. She and Zuko pulled and Sokka pushed, the door opened a bit more and something clicked into place, the door jerked open a small bit suddenly, the tree branch falling to the ground as it was no longer wedged in tightly. 

They took a step back, the various sounds coming from within the walls were unsettling and worrisome, and Sokka insisted on putting himself between her and whatever would come out of the door. The noises soon stop and the door swings open with an eerie creak, beckoning them into the dark room.

***

One unexpected benefit of choosing to follow General Iroh through every one of his assignments was the sheer amount of tea that he was provided with.  _ And to think, back when I was first placed under his command I didn’t like it. _ He’d come a long way from being the bright-eyed recruit he had been, seen too many things that still haunt him at night. But he’d serve under no other man; he’d yet to find another officer in any branch of the military with the same honor that the General had. He’d made that much clear to central command when he had asked to be reassigned and threatened to desert if not transferred, in spite of their concerns. 

He would have fought a duel for him less than an hour ago if he had not interceded. He’d follow him to the Spirit World and back if it was required of him. Or at least until he found a better man to follow. Although he fears all the good men have already died, one had to work with what they had. He took a sip of the jasmine tea that he had been treated to.  _ Yes, there were certainly worse men to follow. Easier men to follow too. But the others don’t give me good tea. _ He thanks General Iroh again for the tea, and they fall into a comfortable rhythm walking back. 

As they near their ship, Jee notices their catapult operators playing a game of Pai Sho on a precariously balanced board on the dock. Their opponent is strangely familiar looking, but he’s sure he’d remember an old man with such a large mustache. His shaggy white hair is tied up and styled to spike upwards, and he twitches his nose this way then that, as if the hair irritates him. He isn’t a threat. Jee decides to address the concern that had been demanding attention at the back of his mind since their conversation with Zhao.

“Sir, about Lieutenant Zhao. My own thoughts and opinions aside, his offer was genuine. He was concerned for you. And almost nothing would make him willingly give up the chance to make himself look better. Especially since he’s desperate to rise through the ranks. I think we should be wary of everything and anything that cows Zhao’s quest for glory.”

“Noted. But, you are too generous in your judgement, Jee. I know very few people so self-assured that they would openly flaunt and admit that they were holding prisoners in the brig of their flagship.” He steps onto the walkway leading up to  _ The Dragon’s Breath _ . “Zhao would fit right in with my brother and his advisors. Which is why I think it best we distance ourselves as much as possible from it.” Jee chokes on his tea at the comment, trying very hard not to laugh at the backhanded compliment, he manages to only snort. Having successfully swallowed, he nods at the order.

The old man also perks up at the comment, giving a wheezing chuckle, before scratching the back of his head. A few of his hairs fall out.  _ Poor man, he’s balding _ . Taking advantage of the old man being distracted, the two catapult operators exchange a gance and quickly move a few of their pieces around - more than any one turn would afford them if Jee remembered the rules correctly. He shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything about it, they had a rough couple of days - having their catapults destroyed and all. One of his sailors coughs drawing the attention of the old man.

He frowns looking at the state of the board, “Monkeyfeathers. I really should have been paying more attention shouldn’t I?” The catapult operators lean back, crossing their arms and smiling in satisfaction, before the old man shrugs and moves a single piece into position. “But then you should have too,” his frown immediately replaced with a large toothy grin. His opponents no longer smile as he starts shovelling the coins they had bet into his pouch as they slowly come to realize that the old man has won. 

He’s halfway down the dock when they realize that he had left. “Better luck next time, I’m sure with practice you’ll get better!” he calls out behind him, waving his arm in a goodbye. “I’ve got errands to run, but if you’re still around tomorrow I’d be more than happy to play with you all again.”

The two bow their heads as they walk onto the boat, displeased at having lost their money. Jee gives them a sympathetic pat on their back when they pass. As they head below deck, he hears them string together a series of curses that would leave most of the other sailors of the ship shocked at their language. Jee learns quite a few new words himself. He is quickly joined on the deck by their engineer, carrying all sorts of wrapped packages, a few of which are leaking, that look like they were all worth much more than the stipend that they had given him. 

“Don’t ask me what I did to get these parts, be glad I got them. The leftover change is in the pouch.” He sticks his hip out towards Jee, letting him untie the pouch. It feels suspiciously heavier than it had been this morning. The engineer is followed by the rest of the crew, all also carrying various packages and tools that they had been tasked to find, in a strict line following the engineer down to the engine room. Soon the sound of clanging, a motor starting, then stalling, and the most colorful vocabulary on the ship overtake the air. Knowing he won’t be any help, Jee retires back to his quarters, deciding to sort through and update all the maps with the new territory acquisitions while he can still compare them to the maps that are actually continually updated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated because I like building things together and weaving in snippets so feel free to leave things; the more the merrier.
> 
> I'd also like to thank the comments so far. I know I've said it before but they really make my day. I know I haven't been that good about answering them so far but I will try to be better.


	9. Chapter 9

The inside of the room is dark, the only light streaming in from the open door behind them illuminates a short passage that leads much deeper into the temple. The walls fall away at the end of the corridor, giving way to a murky and still darkness. Cupping his hands together he breathes out a small flame, and holds it in the palm of his hand. He steps forward, holding the flame in front of him to cast light into the darkness. Sokka and Katara stick close to him, gripping onto his shoulders too tight. 

They keep bumping into each other, trying to stick as close to the light as possible. They practically hung on Zuko after Sokka stubbed his toe on something and Katara had seen something crawl in the dimness at the edge of the light of the fire. He vaguely tries to lead them towards what he thinks is the center of the room. They bump into something as he tries to sidestep another one of the large rocky masses that the room seems to be filled with, it clatters to the ground. Sokka lets go of him to examine it and proudly holds up a torch, which he practically shoves into his face to get him to light it. 

It casts more light than his flame, and Sokka lifts it up to the thing that they had bumped into, finding himself staring up at a “Statues. This room is filled with statues.” 

“Who are these people?” Katara walks up to a different statue.

“I don’t know,” he holds up his palm up higher illuminating the face of the statue directly next to him. “They feel vaguely familiar though. Don’t know how. That one’s dressed like a Fire Nation minister.”

Sokka points up at a statue in front of him, a woman with a half-shaved head and airbending mastery tattoos with her hands extended outwards, offering assistance. “This one’s an airbender.”

Katara looks up at the statue before her, catching its face in the light as Zuko walks past her. “And this one’s from the Northern Water Tribe,” she points up at the symbol on his jacket. “There’s a pattern here: fire, air, water, and earth.” She points at each respective statue. “The whole room is following the cycle.”

“That’s the Avatar cycle.” Zuko mumbles as he holds up his palm to the last statue that Katara had pointed at. It’s the largest one they’d seen, standing taller than the other statues. He barely registers the argument that Sokka and Katara are having in the background, he thinks Sokka is teasing Katara for believing in the so-called ‘ _ spirit mumbo-jumbo’ _ like Sokka hadn’t been blaming the Spirits for his inability to climb a tree. Her face was painted white with red accents on her lips and above her eyes, a large decorative head piece sat on her forehead, and she held an open warfan up to the side of her face, a second one hung on her hip. 

He meets her eyes and they gleam white, but when he blinks it disappears. He steps closer, towards her lifting his flame up higher to see if it had really just been a trick of the light.

“... right Zuko?” Katara pulls his attention away from the statue, breaking his trance,

“Sure.” His voice is unenthusiastic.

“You weren’t listening at all, were you?” He shakes his head apologetically. “Typical.” She sighs, looking up to the statue that Zuko had been entranced with. “Who’s that?”

“Whoever she is, she’s really pretty. And also like ridiculously tall.”

“That’s Avatar Kyoshi. The Avatar before me.” 

Katara examines the base of the statue looking for any markings to indicate that Zuko was right. “There’s no writing. How do you know her name?”

He shrugs. “I mean I knew Kyoshi was the last Avatar, I grew up reading everything that she did. It was astounding.”

“Okay but how did you know what she looked like?”

“I’m not sure. I kind of just know. It’s vague, like a childhood memory that you don’t remember but you’ve been told a million times.” He rubs the back of his head awkwardly, some of his hair falling from the top knot he wore.

“You just couldn’t get any weirder. This is why nobody likes the Spirits, couldn’t be bothered to give clear instructions, just vague notions and-” something behind them cracks a twig. Sokka stops mid-sentence and pushes his sister behind the statue of the waterbender, draws his club, puts out his torch, and hides behind the statue of the airbender he had pointed out earlier - the one closest to the door. He motions to Zuko with his club, bidding him to hide. He takes cover behind the statue of Kyoshi, extinguishing his fire, as a shadow of another being approaches the doorway.

“I’ll hit first, and while they’re distracted Katara you show them a little ‘magic water’ action.” He whispered over to his sister, who groaned at the mention of ‘magic water.’ He shushed her as the shadow loomed closer. He jumps out swinging and yelling.

“Wait, what if it’s an Air Nomad!” Zuko jumps out after him, tackling him down to the ground. They roll once, Zuko doing his best to hold Sokka down - payback for the manhandling he’d received in the South Pole. Katara jumps out a second later, throwing out water haphazardly and freezing it with the tenacity of a cornered wolverine-cat. One such blast comes dangerously close to Zuko’s head, barely missing as Sokka pushes him off of him.

Sokka glanced up at the shadow that loomed over him, the “assailant” looked down at him, curiously cocking its head to the side. “A lemur?” It blinked twice, and hit Sokka’s forehead with a nut a few times, trying to open it. He jerked up, holding his forehead, and the lemur jumped away chattering annoyed at Sokka’s sudden motion. It glides down to land on Zuko’s head, wrapping its tail around his top knot for balance. He freezes as the winged-lemur leans down over him and whacks the same nut on his forehead. He winces and the lemur leaps off his head screaming, and takes off, flying out of the room and towards the light.

“Oh that does it, I’m catching us dinner.” Sokka takes off after the lemur, drawing his boomerang and launching it in the direction that it went. A large thud reverberates through the hallway, and Sokka curses the lemur’s next ten generations.

“Should we try and stop him?” Zuko lights the torch Katara had picked up after Sokka had discarded it. She holds it back up to light the faces of his past lives.

“I’m going to let him have this. It’ll help him blow off some steam. I think it helps him feel in control of this  _ whole _ situation.” She gestures vaguely at him and the rest of the statues. “You can do what you want.”

“I don’t think the lemur should pay the price for my general existence.”

“It’s sweet that you think Sokka can actually catch the lemur. But don’t let me stop you.” She waves her hand dismissing him in a gesture remarkably similar to the ones Lady Kanna used to mark the end of a conversation. She turns back to studying the various faces of some of the older Avatars.

He takes that as his cue to leave, and make sure that Sokka didn’t actually hurt the lemur. Sokka might tease him for believing in the Spirits - but he was the Avatar, so he probably should believe in the Spirits - and the lemur probably wasn’t a Spirit in disguise, but his luck hadn’t been great lately. It was better to be safe than regret it later on when they had to deal with an angered Spirit destroying them. He shudders remembering all the tales of Dark Spirits that General Roku had told him.

It was easy to track where Sokka had chased the lemur, he’d left trails of snowy destruction everywhere, scattering the mounds that had built up over time. Once he’s close enough he can hear more of Sokka’s cursing and goading of the animal. He slides down the rocky slope, jumping from one rock to another to close the distance between them. He spots the lemur jumping from rock to rock, Sokka blindly chasing behind it swinging his club just slow enough so that it would always miss. 

He’d seen Sokka swing the club faster when they had been defending against the Fire Nation soldiers - that felt weird to think about. He was missing on purpose. The lemur dodged Sokka’s latest swing and took off into the remains of what had been a tent a hundred years ago. He barrels in, through the wind-torn drapes, shoulders down in preparation of a powerful backhand swing. He’s inside the structure only long enough that Zuko reaches its entrance.

He walked out of the room half-dazed, dropping his club, like he was trying very hard to comprehend what he had just seen. His eyes pass over Zuko, not recognizing his presence, as he brings up his hands to cover his face. He runs over, not sure of whether it was alright to touch him. The look of horror on his face convinces him that his own thoughts aside, Sokka needed support. He awkwardly places a hand on Sokka’s shoulder. He finally realizes that he’s not alone.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” he quickly collects himself and very pointedly avoids Zuko’s eye. He lets Sokka go and lifts the drapes up to peer inside. Sokka tries to pull him back, “No don’t go in there, it’s not safe.”

He brushes his hand off with a roll of his shoulder and steps into the room. He turns to look back at Sokka, “There’s no one here, so what exactl-” He notices the skeletons lying in the snow. There were dozens, all dressed in the black and red uniforms of the Fire Nation that he had grown up surrounded by. “No they couldn’t have.”

He steps closer seeing more skeletons, most were adorned in Fire Nation regalia, a few had only the burnt remains of discolored clothing. A pit in his stomach gave him the sinking feeling that the clothing had once been vibrant shades of yellow and orange. At the end of the room was a single skeleton, sitting with its legs crossed and back straight upon a dias, surrounded by dozens of skeletons in Fire Nation armor. A tattered tapestry with the swirling orb the Air Nomads used to represent themselves hung behind him. His yellow monk robes and wooden necklace were untouched by fire. 

He recognized the wooden necklace. It was the same as the monk who had visited the Palace. The one who had laughed when pie had been thrown at him. The old monk had been nothing but kind when he had visited. Treating everyone from the Fire Lord to the lowest ranked scullery maid with the same dignity. The Air Nomads were pacifists. Why had the Fire Nation done this?

Sokka had dragged him out of the tent and stood between him and the entrance, blocking his view of the skeletons. He put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Come on. Everything will be alright. Let’s get out of here.” He squeezes his shoulder, and holds out his hand to help him up.

He looked up at him, trying very hard to comfort him. Even though his people had done so many horrible things, more things that he didn’t know, things that no one may ever know. Things to his family in particular. Because he had failed them. He’d failed the whole world.

“No. It won’t. I can’t fix this.” His voice broke at the admission. And his head droops down in grief as he tries very hard to control his breathing. That feeling fills him again - hundreds of voices coming together to articulate their grief and rage and sadness - and his unbandaged eye begins to glow white. 

***

Katara had stayed behind in the statue room, partly because she knew Sokka could probably actually capture the lemur and while she could deal with cleaning, skinning, and preparing an animal after it was already dead, she avoided seeing it happen when she could. But she had stayed mostly because one of the statues had looked hauntingly familiar, and she wanted to look at it some more, without arousing suspicions from Sokka.

She held up the light to the statue directly to the left of Avatar Kyoshi, the waterbender from the North. She couldn’t help but feel that it looked like her father. It had been years since she had seen him, and she had been young when he had left. Sokka had been eleven and had tried to sneak onto the ship. She couldn’t admit it, but her father’s face had been becoming fuzzy in her memory, even with all the letters. 

He’d always been busy trying to keep everyone alive that he’d hardly spent any time actually living with them. Especially after Mom died. He’d insisted on doing the work of two, trying to lead the war front from the South Pole and making sure the South Pole continued functioning, working himself to death until Gran-Gran and Bato had intervened. She didn’t know what he looked like when he wasn’t tired. She knew why, but she resented it.

She turned away from not-her-father to look more closely at Avatar Kyoshi. Gran-Gran had never really covered the history of the Avatars if it hadn’t directly impacted the South Pole, there had been more important things to do. She knew a little bit of what Kyoshi had done, knew that while she was alive the Fire Nation was too scared of her to prepare to go to war after the fiasco that was the Battle of the Northern Seas. She could respect that. If she remembered correctly she had lived for over two hundred years. “Couldn’t you have tried for three-hundred? Outlasted Fire Lord Sozin? Would’ve spared us a war.” Her tone was bitter, even if the words carried no weight.

The statue’s eyes lit up in a brilliant white light, as if in response to her insult. She steps back, and tries to remember everything she had been told to do when dealing with Spirits. Most of the advice had been to avoid confronting the Spirit at all, the rest had been to pick another Spirit and pray for mercy. She calls on Tui and La, the moon and ocean, to protect her, and asks for Kyoshi’s forgiveness. The eyes of not-her-father light up, then the eyes and arrow tattoos of the Avatar next to him. One by one, every statue in the room begins to glow, the room erupting in a brilliant and blinding white light. 

She covers her eyes with her hand as she runs out of the room abandoning the torch. Once outside she blinks several times, trying to regain her vision when she spots a familiar bright beam of light emanating from one of the cliffs nearby. “Sokka! Zuko!” She took off in the direction of the light. Hoping that she wasn’t running towards them, and that they were safe somewhere else. Knowing that she would find them in the middle of that light.

***

Secluded in the Northern tundra, the abandoned temple’s roof shines with a brilliant white light. The two scouts assigned to keep an eye on it jump at the sudden appearance of the light. One slides down the slope using waterbending to examine the temple, and the other blows deeply into a horn, signalling to their compatriots that something had happened.

Deep in an underground temple complex in the heart of the Earth Kingdom, Koko had been assigned to sweeping as punishment for getting into a rather animated debate with one of her fellow scholars. They had insisted that reports from Ba Sing Se could be trusted, and she had decided to show them exactly where she thought reports from that city ought to be filed firsthand. It was tedious and made no sense - they were underground, dirt just happens and shows up spontaneously - but she at least got to study the murals depicting the Avatars native to the Earth Kingdom. 

She bends to pick up the dustpan behind her, when a brilliant white light begins to glow behind her. She turns quickly and sees as each of the past Avatar’s eyes in the murals begin to light up. The dustpan slips from her hand, shattering upon hitting the ground as the final Avatar’s eyes light up and a blast of air erupts from the mural pushing all the dirt and dust away.

On a volcanic island deep in the Fire Nation archipelago, the Fire Sages were quickly springing into action as they all rushed to assemble outside the doors of the temple’s sanctuary at the Great Sage’s command. They all stand at attention as he opens the door, a bright white light streaming from the room behind him. “Send word to the Fire Lord immediately! The Avatar has returned!” 

Shyu sneaks away in the rush as the others move to prepare the messages to be sent out. He scrawls a quick note and attaches it to his own personal messenger hawk, and sends it away. He hopes that with the swarm of hawks that were being sent out, one wouldn’t be missed - and it wouldn’t be tailed easily.

***

The wind picks up beneath Zuko’s feet, a small vortex of air begins building itself around him. Sokka steps back in fear, as more air begins to whip around him. A powerful gust knocks him off balance as the storm begins to get worse. He rolls out of the way as another powerful blast of air heads in his direction, it hits the trees behind him instead, ripping off the loose branches and leaves. Winged lemurs and various birds scatter from the trees seeking refuge elsewhere. He’d only dodged that because it hadn’t been aimed at him.

He swallows and spots a large rock with a crack in it, and runs in that direction, wedging his knife into the crack to give himself a handhold, and positions himself away from the brunt of the wind. Another blast of wind, and he braces himself against the rock. It slides slightly. He takes a deep breath and swallows his fear, holding on tightly to the makeshift handhold, he pulls himself up over the rock slightly to see what was happening. A spinning vortex of airy doom had formed around Zuko, and by the look of the wobbling snow, it was likely that water was going to join next. 

He ducks back down as the wind launches some of the loose rubble that it had grown strong enough to pick up outward. He calls out to Druk, his voice carried in the raging wind. He hopes the dragon heard him, he didn’t know how he would be able to restrain a barely contained Avatar, but he’d rather have all the help he could get. He spots his sister. 

“What happened?” She yells, struggling to make herself heard over the raging wind. 

“No! Go away. It’s not safe here.” He waves his arms trying to tell her to leave, to save herself. She doesn’t.

She spots her brother nestled behind a boulder, trying very hard to not get buffeted by the winds. “Sokka!” She pushes against the wind toward her brother, raising her hands to protect herself against the flying debris that the wind had begun throwing haphazardly around. When she’s close enough, Sokka lets go of the knife and pulls his sister in close to him, shielding her from the brunt of the wind with his body.

“What happened?” She asked again, afraid he hadn’t heard her the first time.

“He found skeletons from the Fire Nation… And what was left of some monks.” He grits his teeth as the latest gust of wind knocked small pebbles into his back. “If this keeps up, we’ll be blown off the mountain.”

“I think it’s the Avatar Spirit. We’re going to have to try and calm him down.” Sokka nods, taking her cues as they step out into the storm. They work together to slowly make their way towards the center. The wind dies down as it collapses in on itself, forming a swirling sphere of air and collected dust and pebbles around Zuko. It begins to rise into the air, releasing a powerful air swipe that would have knocked them off the mountain if Katara hadn’t frozen them to the ground and Druk hadn’t appeared, shielding them from part of the blast. 

They move slower now, Katara shuffling her feet forward still frozen to the ground, and Sokka holding onto his sister for dear life, with Druk trying his hardest to break through the blasts of air that the sphere periodically sends out with puffs of fire. When they’re directly below the giant mass of spinning air, Katara freezes them both to the spot and yells.

“You can’t change the past. We know first hand the things that the Fire Nation is capable of.” The admission causes another blast of wind to whip around them. The surrounding snow melts into water and refreezes into icy misshapen spikes curling inwards towards them. “But you aren’t your Nation! You did everything you could to stop this from happening!” She struggles to have her voice heard over the roaring wind. “It was wrong that you were forced to take this on alone. But you’re not alone anymore.” The sphere dissipates into a small whirlwind of dust and air keeping him suspended in the air. “There are people out there fighting to stop this. Like our dad. And the rest of the Southern Water Tribe’s Warriors. And the Earth Kingdom.” The whirlwind slowly lowers him down, the wind is still whipping around them, but they find themselves in the eye of the storm.

“You don’t have to fix this. Not alone.” Zuko’s feet touch the ground. Katara and Sokka quickly move to hold him on either side. “You’ve got us. Promise.” They each grab one of his hands and gently squeeze it at Sokka’s words. Sealing their promise. 

Their words and promise had reached him, and the raging wind slowly calmed into a gentle breeze. The suspended pebbles dropped, and the ice spikes returned to their soft snowy state. Zuko’s eye slowly stops glowing. He stares out into the distance, eyes unfocused, and collapses slightly. All three of them catch him, support him and keep him upright. “I’m sorry.”

They’re still holding him, even after a few minutes when he can stand by himself, and even after he had nearly blown them off the cliff face. Even if he wasn’t in complete control when he was like that, he still felt incredibly guilty. He squirmed slightly in their grasp, and they took that as a sign to let him go. They settled around him, sitting close enough to hold him if the need arose. They didn’t speak, they just looked concerned, worried that he’d lose control again. 

“Can I be alone for a little bit?” He tried to make himself as small as possible. They share a look between them.

“Is that the best-”

“Please.” They share that look again.

“Okay.” She squeezes his shoulder in gentle reassurance. “We’re going to gather some fruits and stuff. Maybe see if we can set up a meal or something.” He nods, it was a good plan. He should help. He doesn’t move to get up though.

“Yell if you need anything.” They leave in the direction that the orchards they had seen while they were exploring earlier were. He’s left alone with his thoughts. No that isn’t true. He has Druk with him. He fiddles with the bag that Sokka had attached to him. He hears a muffled thud come from the direction that the siblings had gone. He can make out what they’re saying if he tries, barely. “I think I’ve proved I can’t climb trees.” 

He laughs softly to himself, before giving Druk a firm pat. “I think you should take pity on them.” He juts his chin out to gesture in the direction the duo had gone in. Druk sits still. “I’ll be okay,” his dragon cocks his head sideways, questioning him to make sure. “Yes, really.” He hugs Druk. “Now go, before they hurt themselves.” Druk rushes off at the command. 

He sighs as he makes his way back to the statue room. He wanted to try something. 

He kneels before the statue of Kyoshi and places some incense in the holder built into the base. He’s about to pinch the ends of the incense to light it with firebending, but decides against it. It doesn’t feel right after seeing what they had done. He opts to use the flint that he had taken from Sokka’s bag instead. He hadn’t used a flint since he’d discovered he could firebend at the age of six. It took him a few tries to get the incense to light, he was out of practice. It’s the first time he actually looks at her.

Sokka had been right, she was tall, and she looms over him. She had been a powerful Avatar, the threat of facing her had been enough to cow his father from starting his conquests earlier. She hadn’t even done anything but her presence had been enough. And he had tried to do everything he could to stop him. And failed. Both as an Avatar and as Crown Prince to the Fire Nation. “How can I even begin to compare to what you were?” He gets no answer. He wasn’t expecting one.

“I need your guidance. How do I stop this war? How do I bring back peace? Why did you leave? You clearly would have done a much better job at it than me.” Kyoshi stands silent, her glazed eyes looking onward, indifferent to Zuko.

“Please say something. Anything.” He looks up hoping that the statue would come to life or a Spirit would manifest or really anything. He didn’t know how this worked and wasn’t particularly picky about how he got help. Just that he got some. There’s no response. What else could he expect from a statue? He curls in on himself, leaning back against the stand of another Avatar.

“I don’t know if I can fix this,” his voice is quiet, barely even a whisper. It’s difficult for him to admit this. He lifts his head to look Kyoshi straight in the eyes. “But I am going to try.” He takes the handkerchief wrapped package out of his pocket and opens it, looking down at the physical representation of his ties to the Fire Nation. He leaves it at Kyoshi’s feet. He pockets the handkerchief, it had been a gift from his mother. 

He stands at the doorway, pausing and turns back to look at the statue of Kyoshi once more, and then looks back at the rest of the Avatars. He takes a deep breath in. “I am going to fix this.” He nods back to all of them. He thinks he sees a flash of light from Kyoshi’s eyes. He takes it as her blessing. He breathes out and the incense burns itself out, smoke trailing up to the other statues. He bows to his past lives before turning to join Sokka and Katara. They were rejoicing over the bounty of fruit and nuts that they had picked with Druk’s help. 

Katara offered him a moon peach and he took it greedily and bit into it - it was more sour than he expected. Somewhere in the back of his mind a gentle voice told him that they tasted sweeter when slightly roasted. He didn’t know where that voice came from, but he decided to trust it. He picked up one of the sticks and stuck the peach onto it; sticking out two of his fingers he creates a concentrated bit of flame and roasts the peach slightly. He takes a tentative bite out of the moon peach. The voice had been right, it was much sweeter now. He offers it to confused Katara, while he finds another stick to roast more of the fruit.

The lemur that Sokka had chased was near them, pacing at the tree line. Sokka looked over at it and sighed in defeat. He drew out his club and crushed a few of the nuts that they had gathered. He picked one up and plopped it into his mouth before throwing another at the lemur. It caught it and stuffed in its mouth. He picked up one of the moon peaches and began to take a bite out of it. The lemur darts towards him, climbs Sokka’s body, takes the fruit and jumps off Sokka’s head. It lands on the statue of the monk and nibbles on the fruit.

Sokka jumps up indignant that his food had gotten stolen. Katara laughs, handing him one of the fruits that Zuko had roasted, and pulls him back down to sitting. Druk coiled himself around them, occasionally nuzzling Zuko for pets and to steal fruit. He thought back to what Sokka had told him earlier. Surrounded by Sokka, Katara, and Druk it really did feel like things would turn out alright.

***

It felt good to have a sea breeze blowing through the ship again. A good, proper, salty breeze. Shore leave was something often relished, and hardly ever had, but everyone - even those whose constant complaining Jee would often deal with - had been glad to leave the overbearing shadow of the Fire Navy fleet stationed at the port. It had been two whole days since they had left, and in those two days they had not seen a single other ship. Just the way he liked it. 

The helmsman had made their course due east, toward still unincorporated Earth Kingdom territories. Far from the Fire Nation, and towards the rumored hiding place of an enclave of airbenders. But more importantly away from Lieutenant Zhao and his Empire class-sized superiority complex. They’d been heading in this direction for the greater part of the day, and a sense of ease had drifted in with the wind and had been picked up by the crew.

The General had ordered his Pai Sho table brought up, and had let the crew know that any could come challenge him to a game of Pai Sho. Even offering to make things fairer by allowing them to play against him in groups of three. Right now, Jee had teamed up with the engineer and the cook to play against him, hoping their combined skill would let them stand a chance against the tactics of the Dragon of the West.

“That’s a messenger hawk incoming for us,” the helmsman called to him, motioning him over and pointing to a very distinct and recognizable blur circling around the boat in the sky. Jee thanks him, turns away from the game, grabs the gauntlet they hang next to the door for this very purpose, and steps outside. He holds his arm out and lets out a shrill whistle - a poor mimicry of the bird’s actual cry, but it was close enough. The hawk responds immediately, diving towards him, pulling up at the last minute and landing on his outstretched arm.

He brings the bird in, taking the scroll that had been attached to its back before setting it on the perch built into the wall. The cook immediately abandons paying attention to the game, deciding the bird as more deserving of his attention. He coos at it, calling it ‘a pretty bird’ and various other cutesy pet names, before digging around one of his many pockets and pulling out a cracker. He offers it up to the messenger hawk, who happily takes it in its beak and begins to affectionately rub the chef’s finger with its head. Their chef beams, and Jee swears he’s liable to combust of joy if that bird keeps it up.

He turns his attention toward the scroll, it’s wrapped in the customary red ribbon - general updates then, nothing ground-breaking. He unties the ribbon and tucks it into one of his pockets, he remembers that one of the catapult operators collects them - though he can’t remember which one - before unfurling the scroll. He clears his throat, catching the General’s attention. He motions him to read it out loud, before he returns to stroking his beard, while looking over the Pai Sho board before moving a single piece towards the center.

“It reads: ‘By the order of the Fire Lord, his Imperial Majesty’ etcetera etcetera, I think his title gets longer with every message. ‘Due to the increase in the escapes of captured enemies of the Fire Nation, including but not limited to traitors, deserters, airbenders, and other such prisoners of war, a new task force has been created. All information regarding the suspected movements of the rogue organization, often identifying themselves with various playing pieces of games must be reported up to Commander Zhao immediately.’ 

“It includes a list of some of the more notable escape attempts,” he lists a few of them off. Two catch his eyes. “The Pohuai Stronghold?”

“Ah yes the Bear Lady incident. Remind me to tell you all about it some time.”

Jee decides not to question it at the moment, choosing to focus instead on the very last listed incident: the harbor they had just left. Seems like General Iroh had been right, boasting about his prize had ensured that the enemy got wind of it. And Zhao’s prisoners had been freed. He hands the scroll over to Iroh, fingers positioned to draw attention to the last incident.

He takes it in one hand, glances at it slightly, acknowledges what Jee had been motioning to- “Seems Zhao got a promotion” -And promptly burns it in his hand, letting the ashes fall to the ground. He moves another piece on the game board. Jee winces upon seeing the state of their board tilting his head towards their engineer and signalling that it was his choice what to do next. He whines at the move, before looking over at the chef - still cooing over the hawk - before bowing his head in defeat. Iroh picks up the pieces on the board, resetting them to the starting position. “You’re improving, the game lasted much longer this time. Would you like to play again?”

***

Returning to the Southern Air Temple was never easy, but he still insisted on doing it whenever he was near. It was tradition at this point, and none of the other airbenders dared to venture anywhere near any of their old Temples, too scared of further retaliation from the Fire Nation. He too rarely ventured anywhere near the other temples, it had been decades since he had last stepped foot in any of the others, a lifetime ago. The Southern Air Temple was different though, it had been home; and he hoped it still could be again. Eventually. 

If not for him, then for those that would follow. It was why he still tended to the fruit trees and bridges they had grown. He had gently guided a few trees to form new bridges himself, and would like to see how they had been faring.

It had been a good week, he’d managed to break into the lead ship of the Fire Nation’s Eastern Fleet and released all the prisoners that had been held in the brig. None of them had been actual airbenders, which was good. They weren’t getting caught. Still there were almost a dozen of them, mostly people who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, a few Earth Kingdom soldiers, a couple of them had even been waterbenders. They had been the most helpful in getting everyone off the ship and into the surrounding forest under the cover of night. 

He pulls at Appa’s reins, coaxing him to ascend. Familiar mountain peaks and rock spires surround him, the air empty and still and quiet. It had been a long time since the mountain tops had had laughter echoing off of them, had young airbenders taking their first flights between them, had travellers flocking in on flying bison carrying news from the world to them. Too long.

Appa turns away from the rock pillar Aang had crashed into during his first glider flight, Monk Gyatso had made him laugh while patching up his scrapes afterwards. He smiled softly at the memory, letting the warmth overtake him as they neared the spires of his home. The vibrant blue had faded with time, and vines and other plant life had taken over parts of the temple, with no one there to prune them away, but returning home still filled him with joy. And mourning. It was so quiet here. 

“We’re home.” He whispers it into the wind, and the sound is lost in the valleys that surround them.

The birds and wild winged lemurs fall silent as they fly over the forested ridge directly in front of the temple, no longer accustomed to flying bison coming to and from the temple. Appa lands gently at the base of the temple. Snow covers parts of the ground. 

They walk together in silence towards the statue of Monk Gyatso in the courtyard. He lays the fruit he had gathered from the trees in front of the statue and fills the cup built into the stone with water. He bows to his old master and dear friend, and sits with him, telling him the stories of what had happened since he had last visited. Of the Air Nomad enclaves in various cities. Of the wild flying bison herd that he had seen in the West. Of the children and grandchildren of the other Air Nomads that had escaped and their training, some had even begun to use gliders properly. Of the war.

For a moment, sitting with the statue of Monk Gyatso, telling stories, the temple comes alive again. He can see the children playing airball in the fields, smell the monks and nuns baking fruit pies, hear the chittering of the winged lemurs and grunts and growls of flying bisons; visitors to the temple exchanging stories from their travels, bringing news of the world as well as showing off curios and mementos that they had acquired on their voyages. And in that moment he’s just another traveller, on a waypoint greeting his extended family. He talks, words breathed out of his mouth, until he runs out of stories to tell, and the temple, once again, falls silent. 

He wipes away the tears that had begun to stream down his face. He hadn’t realized he had started crying. 

He started on the various chores he had assigned himself, small things mostly. Sweeping the fallen leaves away so they wouldn’t rot on the ground. Pruning the bridges so they could still be used. Restocking the cache of supplies at the base of Monk Gyatso’s statue and cleaning some of the living quarters, in case any other Air Nomads did pass by and use this temple as a stop on their journey. No one but him had for a while, but he had hope that someone would eventually. Avoiding the room. Sleeping under the stars with Appa. He spent a few days like this, tenderly pouring as much care into the temple as he was able to. Although much less than he wished he could.

It was on his third and last day at the temple when he decided to pay a visit to the air temple sanctuary. At the very least he could visit the statue of Avatar Yangchen, it was her wisdom that guided him through the years. The walk to the sanctuary is a long one, he ends up using his staff as a walking stick to help him reach the final steps of the sanctuary. Curiously the door had been opened.

He had not closed them completely last time to allow the lemurs the chance to get the fruit that he had left as an offering last time; he was sure Yangchen in her infinite compassion would not begrudge the animals the meal, and he certainly appreciated not having to deal with rotted fruit next time he got a chance to visit. But the door was too heavy for the lemurs to have opened it themselves. And the airbending mechanism was still in the closed position, so no airbender had been the one to open the door. 

He rushes in, worried that someone had come to vandalize the statues, but finds nothing immediately off. The statues are all here, none are broken, there’s nothing wrong at first glance. Only a large tree branch that had been discarded near the entryway - most likely what had been used to wedge open the door - was the only thing that was out of the ordinary. Still, he methodically walks through the different aisles and aisles of statues, just to be sure. Finding nothing off, despite his instincts telling him so, he makes his way over to the center of the sanctuary, where the more recent Avatars were found. He sits in front of the statue of Avatar Yangchen, bows his head slightly in reverence, and begins to meditate.

His concentration is interrupted by the arrival of a rather curious winged lemur. Only one had been so bold as to get anywhere near him and Appa in the last few days, and it had spent most of the time sitting on the head or shoulders of the statue of Monk Gyatso. Watching him as he did various things around the temple, and screaming whenever he or Appa got too close to him, but never leaving his perch. He had been leaving fruit and nuts out for it, and as the days passed the screaming was no longer as loud as it used to be. It was more of an  _ oh you’re still here _ scream than a  _ go away  _ scream.

The lemur was perched on the head of Avatar Yangchen, looking down at him. Aang pulls a moon peach out of his sleeves and offers it up to the lemur. The lemur curiously leans over, snatching the fruit and sniffing it before stuffing it in his mouth. He takes off with a leap, peach in his mouth, and lands at the foot of another statue. He devours it readily and chitters at Aang, an arm extended out demanding more. With a sigh, he gets up and walks over to the statue, taking another moon peach out from his sleeves. The lemur takes it, less aggressively than the first time, and retreats back up to the tall statue of Avatar Kyoshi.

He perches on her headpiece, noisily eating the moon peach as Aang notices the distinct smell of burned incense. He looks down, and something at the foot of the statue glints in the scattered light of the sanctuary. He picks it up and holds up what he recognizes as a golden hairpiece stylized to look like a flame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated because I like building things together and weaving in snippets so feel free to leave things; the more the merrier.
> 
> I'd also like to thank the comments so far. I know I've said it before but they really make my day. I know I haven't been that good about answering them so far but I will try to be better.


	10. Kyoshi's Island

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this post (https://aboutiroh.tumblr.com/post/623482349267697664/good-ho-mens-cubedleo-uberguber89) and too many late night ramblings between me and my friends, who are gracious enough to let me just them random things and respond to me with a patience that knows no bounds.

Something shifted between the three of them after his outburst at the Air Temple. They were somehow even gentler with him, and gave him as much space as they could given they were still travelling by cuttership. He felt bad that they were accommodating him so much, so he threw himself into what few things he could do. Mostly poor fishing and roasting fish - he wasn’t burning them as often anymore.

They didn’t ask any questions about his past other than the ones that were absolutely necessary - mostly Sokka still trying to figure out what skills Zuko had. Confirming that he was the Avatar had been enough to sate their curiosity for now. He felt guilty at still not telling them exactly who he was, but they no longer seemed interested in finding out. He had a feeling that them finding out who he had been in the past would strain their newly formed relationship. 

And he liked spending time with Katara and Sokka. They were nice to him, in a friend kind of way rather than nice because they were starstruck at meeting the Crown Prince or because they were worried that if they weren’t nice to him he’d have them imprisoned or banished, or - worst of all - because they thought they could curry his favor into more power for themselves. They didn’t really have much choice in spending time with him, but they could have chosen to ignore him. But they didn’t.

Katara insisted on checking that he was applying the burn salve properly, still threatening to douse him with seawater if he didn’t do it right - her tone reminded him of Kikaro, so he knew she didn’t really intend to go through with the threat, but it was demonstration that she cared. Sokka had tried to teach him to fight with the weapons that he’d taken with them, arguing that Zuko probably shouldn’t use firebending as his main form of combat when they were traveling through the Earth Kingdom. He didn’t know that he’d been trained in fighting with dual broadswords already. While the skills didn’t completely transfer over to the knives they were using, he’d still managed to claim victory, albeit ripping Sokka’s shirt in the process. 

He’s complained about it over the fish stew that they’d had for dinner - they had trusted him enough to light fires on the boat now, and to tend to them long enough for their food to cook too. “I thought you said you didn’t know how to knife fight.”

He takes a sip of the soup, it’s salty, and not very well flavored, and nothing like the Lady Kanna’s, but it wasn’t roasted (burnt) fish again. And by those incredibly low standards, that made the meal absolutely delicious. “You’re right, I don’t know how to fight with knives.” He bites into a roasted moon peach. “I do know how to fight with swords though.” He says with his mouth full, something he would have never dared to do at the palace. 

Katara stops her sewing to let out a laugh as Sokka’s face flounders through surprise, denial and shock before settling on annoyance. “Hey no fair, you’re supposed to be on my side.” She gives him a good-natured shove, and returns to focusing on her task. Sticking her tongue out as she concentrates on rethreading the needle. “No more making her laugh.” Sokka takes the finished bowl from Zuko, sees there’s still dregs in it and slurps the leftovers. “You need to give girls space when they do their sewing.”

Katara stops what she was doing, dropping the shirt and standing to face her brother. “And what exactly do you mean by that? What does me being a  _ girl _ have to do with sewing?”

“Simple. Girls are better at fixing things, like a ripped shirt. And guys are better at hunting and fighting and stuff like that. Right, Zuko?” Sokka looks over at Zuko for support. Katara glares at him, daring to agree.

“I know better than to get involved.” He takes the bowls from Sokka, and begins to wash them out. Katara is still glaring at him but nods, an understanding passes between them. He begins to scrub at the bowls harder, desperately hoping that would be enough to sway her ire away from him. 

“Well what about Gran-Gran? She’s great at fighting.” Zuko has never seen her fight, but considering what he has seen, he has very little doubt in his mind that Katara was not only telling the truth, but probably underselling Lady Gran-Gran’s skills.

“Gran’s not a girl. She’s a polar bear dog disguised as a human. Or a force of nature. And  _ She  _ sews.” He gestures to his jacket showing off Gran-Gran’s skills. “Thought you’d have inherited her skills.”

She beams sarcastically at his words and holds up Sokka’s shirt. “Oh I did! All done with your shirt.” She sticks an arm through the still ripped hole. “And look what a great job I did!” She throws it at Sokka’s face.

He scrambles to free himself. “Wait. I was just kidding Katara. I can’t wear this. Please Katara. I’m dying in my parka right now, it’s so hot. I don’t have another shirt, Katara.” 

Zuko felt guilty when he said that. He’d taken most of Sokka’s extra clothing since they had left the Air Temple, not feeling comfortable wearing the royal armor, or any of the Fire Nation reds and blacks that he had - not that he’d had much. And Sokka was right, it was too hot to be wearing a coat. They hadn’t really said anything when he’d shown up on deck the day after leaving the Air Temple wearing blue. Katara just added ‘clothes for Zuko’ to the list of things they needed to get next time they docked at a town. 

She’d noticed he’d awkwardly looked down at his feet ashamed at those words and relented, taking the shirt back from Sokka with a sigh. “Fine. But remember, the state of your clothing is subject to my whim.” She holds out the needle in between her fingers, “That is, of course, unless you learn how to sew yourself.”

“I think I’ll pass.” He pushes her arm aside.

She sticks the needle into Sokka’s hand, grinning like a gator-cat. “You don’t get a choice here.” She spots him trying to sneak off to the cabin to put the dishes away. “Neither do you, Zuko.” They spend the night under Katara’s tutelage, reluctantly, as she teaches them the basic stitch she knows, before leaving them to fix the shirt while she and Druk steer and propel the ship towards Kyoshi Island. 

It had been his idea to head there. After they’d spent a day maneuvering around the archipelago mountains that the Southern Air Temple was located in, Sokka had pulled out a map of the Southern Earth Kingdom’s coast and the surrounding islands, and declared that they needed to chart their course. He’d tacked the map up on one of the walls in the cabin and they looked through it trying to figure out which ports were likely not going to be friendly to a Water Tribe ship. He knew they were trying to say which ports had been captured by the Fire Nation, and he appreciated that they were trying to be aware of how he had complicated feelings about the Fire Nation right now, but he had told them they didn’t need to sugarcoat it. 

The map wasn’t particularly exhaustive, and they’d have to pick up a more accurate and more extensive map when they did make for a port. Sokka had marked off with x’s the ports that his father had mentioned had been captured in his letters, as well as circled a few of the ports that the Southern Water Tribe fleet had safely docked at in the past. Although that information could be anywhere between six months to years out of date. Sokka was in the midst of debating the merits between two ports with Katara when Zuko noticed Kyoshi Island.

Sokka had expressed his doubts, but Zuko argued that given the fact that the Fire Nation had been too scared of Kyoshi to attack until after she died, they would have made it a point for the world to know that they had captured Kyoshi’s island. Plus it was close. That had been the selling point. 

He held up Sokka’s shirt, the hole was patched - shoddily but patched. He’d taken the shirt from Sokka after his grumbling and complaining after pricking himself with the needle again. Plus it had been his fault that the shirt had ripped. Katara rolled her eyes,  _ You know if you give in to everything he wants he’ll walk all over you _ . Zuko shrugged in response. It wasn’t that bad, it reminded him of when he used to sit at his mother’s feet while she gossiped with the ladies in the Royal Court when he was younger. 

***

Katara yawned and stretched out her arms as the moon began to set, she called for Druk to return and gave the dragon a gentle scratch on the head. He purred. She enjoyed his company on her long night shifts, it was just the three of them - Katara, Druk, and the moon - until the moon called it a night and the sun would rise.

She headed down to the cabin to wake Sokka, so he could take over steering the ship. They’d taken to sleeping in shifts so at least one of them would be awake at any one time, since Zuko was still learning the ropes and was only capable of navigating with the sun. She rubbed her eyes, stifling another yawn and shook her brother. He rolls over in the hammock swatting her hand away and mumbling. She groans, throwing her head back as she shakes Sokka much harder. 

“Come on Sokka, it’s my turn to sleep.” She sighs rolling her head to the side, she squints her eyes noticing Zuko sitting on the floor. He was sitting by the windows with his legs crossed, in the one spot on the floor where the sunlight streamed in. He gave her a funny look as she groggily poked her brother again. Sokka throws his pillow at her and covers his head with his blanket. She catches it and whacks him gently with it. Sokka tries to avoid it, but only succeeds in twisting himself out of the hammock and landing on the floor with a thud. Satisfied that her brother was up, she drops the pillow on his lap, and gets in her own hammock on the other wall.

Sokka did not appreciate his sister’s delicate attempts at waking him up. He got up, stretched out his aching shoulders, and yawned. “What are you looking at?” Zuko turns his face back to the sun.  _ Damn firebenders getting up with the sun. He’s giving Katara standards. _ He rubbed his eyes as he pulled on his one shirt and tied back his hair, he grabbed a stick of jerky and cleared his throat, motioning to Zuko that it was their turn to man the ship. 

The sun was bright, and it was too early in the day to be doing anything productive, and yet here he was, opening the sails and maneuvering the rudder. And Zuko didn’t even have the decency to even pretend he was tired and unhappy that he was being forced to be up this early in the morning. No. He insisted on doing everything that he was told to do without complaints, rushing off with a speed that Sokka envied. He was trying to make up for accidentally going Avatar State on them - even though it wasn’t his fault - and while Sokka had enjoyed it the first day, it was getting old. 

But right now, he could lean back near the rudder and rest his eyes while Zuko busied himself with climbing up the mast. He’d only closed his eyes for a minute when he heard Zuko call out to him.

“Hey Sokka!” He was leaning over the side of the boat pointing at something in the water. “Look at this.”

Sokka got up to stand next to Zuko. He sounded excited. He looked down to where Zuko was pointing. He blinked and rubbed his eyes before taking a second look. The tip of a dorsal fin of a fish was sticking out of the water. A very large fish. It dove down, and Sokka realized just how large the fish was when the edge of its tail poked up from the water. About fifty yards from them the bubbles begin to form and a giant black and white elephant koi erupts out from water. It is larger than their boat. It lands back in the water with a giant splash, knocking the boat back in the aftershock of its waves. 

Sokka manages to keep his balance as the boat rocks and rights itself, gritting his teeth. That fish had been awfully close. Any closer and the boat wouldn’t have been able to rebalance itself. Zuko wasn’t so lucky, he’d latched onto the side of the boat though, and was hugging it desperately to keep from being knocked around. Further away, another elephant koi jumps out of the water, this one a golden orange, its scales glinting in the morning sun. More and more of them follow suit. 

“There’s an entire school!” Zuko, still hugging the side of the boat, looked over to the entire school of fish in awe. 

“Yeah, and if we don’t move out of their way, we might capsize.” That manages to tear his attention away from the elephant koi long enough for Sokka to actually get him to maneuver the main sail. 

He scans the horizon, looking for a direction to sail away from the giant ten-ton fish that would make quick work of the boat. The boat rocks as one of them swims beneath them, and Sokka catches himself as he spots… “Land!” He points it out to Zuko. It’s far off in the distance, and only a speck of green right now, but if his navigating is good - and of course it is because he learned from the best navigator at the South Pole - then that is most definitely: “Kyoshi Island!” 

He nods to Zuko, who takes off, securing the sails so they could turn towards that direction. He turns the rudder, guiding them towards the island. The wind is good and strong, and it doesn’t take them long to close the distance to the island. The elephant koi continue breaching around them, some of the smaller ones daring to come closer to the boat, curious, before being herded away by their mothers. They’re practically being escorted to the bay by the fish. 

At some point during their travels, Katara comes up from the cabin, blinking in the harsh sunlight, trying to orient herself. She walks over to Sokka, leaning back against the ship, occasionally fiddling with the rudder to correct their direction, and nods in acknowledgement. Druk was coiled on the mast, his mouth hanging open and his tongue flapping in the wind. He looked absolutely delighted. Zuko was near the bow of the ship looking out to the ocean, excitedly pointing out at the jumping fish, warning Sokka so that he could maneuver them away.

She takes a closer look. “Wait are those elephant koi?” Sokka nods.

“So that’s what they’re called!” Zuko turns back to look out at the open ocean. “There’s one coming in from your left.”

“That’s port!” Sokka yells back at him before turning to Katara. “I’m trying to teach him more sailing words.” Katara pats Sokka on the head half-heartedly showing her support. She looks out towards the fish.

“Didn’t the tribe used to hunt elephant koi back when we still had larger ships not dedicated to the war?” Sokka nods, vaguely remembering Kikaro mentioning that. “Aren’t they deep ocean fish?” 

“Yeah.” That also sounded vaguely familiar, although he wasn’t sure why Katara had brought that up.

“Then what are they doing so close to shore?”  _ Oh no. _ Responding to her question a large gray dorsal fin erupts from the water. Sokka had thought the elephant koi were large, this fin was larger than one of the full grown fish they had seen so far. Fully erected it absolutely dwarfed the  _ Ocean Glider _ . 

Sokka swallowed, trying to keep his voice even. “That’s why.” The fin disappears into the surface of the water, and Sokka very desperately tries to move them away from where it appeared. They’re close enough to land that Sokka risks trying to get them to the beach, even without a proper dock. Anything to avoid that.

The elephant koi scatter away from the boat as the fin reappears, breaking the surface. It disappears underwater for a moment before it launches itself up in an eruption of water. The giant eel creature lifts itself out of the water standing much taller than any of the boats Sokka, one of the elephant koi in its jaws, it flicks its neck upward, throwing the fish into the air before catching it and swallowing it whole. Sokka had thought it had been big before, but the dorsal fin, which he’d thought was on its entire back, was only on its very large head. 

“Hey Katara,” he shakes his sister gentl snapping her out of her fear. “Think you can use your ‘magic water’ to get us out of here? Or get that thing away from us?”

She looked at him uncertainly. “I can try.” 

“Guys, the thing is diving!” He stops for a second. “Towards us.” True to Zuko’s words, the eel creature dives towards the boat, it takes a few seconds for its entire body to dive down. Sokka’s estimates for its size kept being wrong. The boat lurches in the wake of the eel’s dive. Katara freezes herself onto the deck and steadies the boat, pulling and pushing the water around the boat so that it remains upright. 

Sokka leaves the rudder, and trails the dark mass under the water seeing it go under the  _ Ocean Glider _ . His eyes dart to the starboard side, as he sees ripples erupting on the surface. A tell-tale sign of something launching itself up to the surface. “Brace yourselves!” He wraps his arm around the rail on the ship, and holds it tightly as the eel rises up again. Facing the eel directly, Sokka gets a chance to see its very many razor sharp teeth.  _ Well I’m going to see that in my nightmares _ .

It unhinges its jaw, and water starts dribbling down its neck. “Katara,” he calls out to his sister, pointing at the giant sea monster. “I don’t like the look of that.” He sees a bulge traveling up the neck of the creature and dives for cover as a stream of water gushes from its mouth. 

The boat lurches on its side as it's being pushed backwards but it’s not torn apart like he thought the powerful water cannon would. He looks behind him and Katara is parting the blast as best she can. She’s struggling against the force, sliding back on the deck as the ice holding in her place begins to crack. He launches himself at her as the crack reaches the ice on the deck and she slips, rolling her out of the way of the incoming blast, and behind the water break the cabin was providing. 

Whatever Katara had done had been enough to shield them from the strongest part of the blast. The boat rocked as the last of the water hit against its sides; but it had been built to last collisions against icebergs and metal ships. The wood held. Having grown disinterested following their disappearance, the eel dove back down, retreating into deeper waters. It left with a final flick of its tail, flinging them onto the beach. He braces himself for the incoming impact, closing his eyes and holding in his breath.

It doesn’t come.

He opens his eyes and finds himself and - more importantly - the entire boat suspended in a gust of air and dust. Zuko’s uncovered eye is glowing, and he’s held up separately by a small tornado of sand. He spreads out his hands and in a sweeping motion and the boat is gently lowered in the sand. He blinks and the glowing stops, the sand column and air gusts fall away, dropping the three of them face first into the sand.

“That would have been very useful about five minutes ago.” Sokka groans, picking himself up and spitting out the sand in his mouth. “Although I would have preferred a softer landing.”

“I was trying very hard to do it five minutes ago too, but it wasn’t working then.” He rubs at his face, getting more sand into his mouth.

“Well what matters is that it worked when we needed it to.” Katara stands up, dusting sand off her dress and takes stock of the  _ Ocean Glider _ lying on the beach on its side. 

“Hey where’s Druk?” Behind her Zuko begins calling out for his dragon companion as she tries to figure out how to get their boat back into the water. And whether they wanted to go back into that particular eel infested bay in the first place. 

She walks over to the hull examining it for damage. There was no breakage, Zuko’s air cushion had deposited the boat softly. All the scars and scrapes were old, from her and Sokka’s previous adventures. She runs her hand along the one from the time they had - unintentionally - come across a tiger-squid right into a barnacle. She sighed in disappointment. “Sokka when was the last time you de-barnacled our boat?” 

He sticks his head out of the side of the boat to look at her. “You try and do that in freezing water. It’s not fun. Wait wh-” Sokka is pulled back behind the boat suddenly. 

Just as Katara uncorks her waterskin to pull out water to defend herself, she’s pulled back by her dress. The water splashes as she drops her concentration, thrown off balance. A gloved hand pulls her waterskin away from her and pulls her hood over her head, tumbling her forward. Someone puts a foot on her back and pulls her hands back before wrapping a rope securely around her wrists, and tying a blindfold to her face. She’s flung over the back of an ostrich horse, and there are more ropes tying her to the saddle.

“I think we have bigger things to worry about than barnacles.” Even blindfolded Katara shot her brother a dirty look. 

“Stuff it.” An authoritative voice calls out in front of them, before spurring their ostrich horse into a gallop. The rider in charge of transporting Katara follows quickly, and Katara is left uncomfortably bouncing with each step in the animal’s gallop. She tries to keep track of their twists and turns, but gets lost after the first couple of turns. 

They were heading into the forest, she could tell that much from the crunching of leaves underfoot, and because the sound of splashing waves was getting farther until she stopped hearing it completely. It feels like hours - although it’s difficult to tell time when you’re blindfolded - when they finally stop. Her rider dismounts quickly, and throws her down to the ground. Whoever their captors are they’re not being gentle. Two thuds immediately follow near her and she recognizes Sokka grunting at the impact. At the very least they weren’t separated. 

“You three have some explaining to do.” What sounded like an old man stood over them.

“Who’s there! Show yourself, cowards! When I get my hands on you-” Sokka rushes up and tries to swing but gets pulled back down with a snap as the rope pulls him back down.

“You’ll do what exactly?” Sokka sputters for a second. “That’s what I thought.”

The voice from before who had told Sokka to stuff it taunts. Somebody snaps their fingers, and Katara’s blindfold is removed, a girl in a green kimono wearing white and red face paint stands in front of her, a short sword pointed towards her face. She chances a look to the side and sees Sokka in a similar position. There are three of them surrounding Zuko. 

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” The old man asks them, one of the girls is to his side, she has a more elaborate headdress than the others.

“Where are the men who ambushed us. The warriors.” Sokka completely ignores him.

“There were no men. We ambushed you.” She gestured at the girls surrounding them. Katara did a quick tally, three on Zuko, one on Sokka, one on her, one by the old man, and the one speaking - their leader. Seven. That she knew of. “Now you tell us, who are you? And what are you doing here?” She draws out a short sword from her side and holds it up to Sokka’s face.

“Wait a second. There’s no way that a bunch of girls took us down.” The warriors’ leader steps forward, the blade coming dangerously close to Sokka’s face.

“Want to rethink that statement?” She holds him up in one hand and positions her sword near his chest. He swallows, too dumbfounded to say anything.

She sighs - of course it’s up to her to save her brother from his big mouth - and leans forward. “Please don’t hurt him. He didn’t mean it. My brother just suffers from a horrible illness called chronic foot in mouth disease. It makes him speak without thinking. He’s an idiot but he’s harmless to a group of trained warriors.”

“Hey!” Katara glares at him. “Yeah she’s right, I’m just an idiot sometimes.” He nods affirmingly for emphasis. The girls’ leader releases Sokka, but still looks at him accusingly as she steps back, sheathing her sword. 

“It’s my fault. We were traveling to Kyoshi Island from the Southern Air Temple when we ran into a giant eel in the bay, it knocked our ship out of the water and onto the beach. We mean you no harm.” Zuko speaks up quick to try and deflect the warriors’ ire away from Sokka and Katara.

“Nobody comes from the Southern Air Temple. How do we know you’re not Fire Nation spies? Especially you,” he gestures at Zuko - who today of all days had decided to wear some of his own red and black clothing rather than the blues of Sokka’s stolen wardrobe. They should have listened to her and done laundry earlier. “You certainly look the part.” Zuko looks down at his clothing. “Kyoshi has stayed out of the war so far. And we intend to keep it that way!”

“If I could wear anything else I would.” He says softly looking at the ground. He suddenly perks up. “Wait, this is Kyoshi Island?” The old man nods. “I know Kyoshi!”

The old man laughs dryly, without humor. “Ha! How could you possibly know her? Avatar Kyoshi was born here almost three hundred and fifty years ago.” He throws his hand outward gesturing behind him. They turn to look up at the large wooden pole they had been tied to. At the top of the wooden pole stands a statue of a tall woman, holding two stretched open fans. She is dressed in a similar outfit as the girls who had captured them. Katara recognizes the head piece as the same one as the statue of Kyoshi back at the statue room. “She’s been dead for a century.”

“That’s not right.” The old man looks shocked at Zuko’s contradiction. “Kyoshi wasn’t born here. She grew up here, yes. She didn’t know where she was born, but she knew it wasn’t here.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Because I’m the Avatar.” He says it hesitantly. Katara has a hard time believing it when he says it, and she’s seen proof of it.

“That’s impossible!” The warrior’s leader interjects. “The last Avatar was born in the Fire Nation a hundred years ago. They disappeared and the Cycle’s been broken ever since.”

“I didn’t mean to disappear. It kind of just happened.” He shrugs.

“Zuko do some airbending or waterbending or something.” Katara pleads, drawing the attention of the leader.

“Believe me if I could do all that on command I would have done that already.”

“Enough of your lies. Throw them to the Unagi!” The warrior guarding Katara steps closer, the grip on her sword tighter, daring her to make one false move. 

At that moment Sokka breaks free of his bonds, he’d spent the entire time fiddling with the knot to loosen it. How hadn’t she noticed? Why hadn’t she thought of that? He grabs the wrist of the warrior guarding him, and disarms her, throwing her back towards the other girl. He holds the sword up defensively in both hands, like a club. It looks strange. “That’s not going to happen.” He lets out a piercing whistle. “You might want to practice your knots.”

The warrior’s leader throws her sword at the girl Sokka had pushed back, arming the girl and draws one of the fans from her belt and sliding it open. Sokka stands his ground as the girl approaches menacingly. He swings the sword overextending himself as the girl moves his arm away with her fan, causing him to drop the sword. Sokka, Spirits help him, puts up his fists, not willing to go down without a fight. 

Katara sighs as she sees her brother get knocked down by two of the warriors. Their leader stands over him, hands on her hips, looking down at him condescendingly. “What was that supposed to do?”

He looks up at her and smiles. “Buy time for him to arrive.” He gestures to the side with his head as Druk appears through the trees, roaring. The leader takes a step back, drawing out her second fan and signalling to the girls to surround her. Two of them step forward, flanking their leader. They twist their left arms slightly as shields fan out from their wrists and hold up their extended fans behind them, the others stand behind them, swords up. Katara sees only one of them shake slightly in fear. Pretty admirable given that they were facing a dragon that had just appeared. Druk stands poised, wrapped around the statue, growling and ready to strike. 

Before either side can move, the old man yells. “Suki, stop. That’s a dragon. They might actually be telling the truth.” Their leader - Suki - turns her head, an eyebrow raised. The old man nods, and she stands down, closing her fans and sticking them back in her belt. Her warriors follow suit a few seconds later, untying Katara and Zuko, and stepping away from Sokka. Katara hauls her brother up as the old man steps closer to them.

“So you’re really the Avatar?” Zuko nods. “Thought you’d be older.” He starts to walk towards the village. “Well, come on then. Any incarnation of Kyoshi is welcome here. We can give you some beds for a few nights while you stay on the island.” The three of them exchange a look, unsure whether to follow the old man.

“Oyaji,” Suki runs up to the old man and pulls him aside. “Is it really such a good idea to invite strangers into the heart of our village?” She glances over to the three of them, gaze resting on Zuko before turning back to the old man. “Avatar or not.”

“Suki…” The old man admonishes the girl.

“Oyaji, my duty is to protect the people of the village. Forgive me for being cautious. But it is a little hard to believe. Their very presence here could be putting everyone in danger.”

“Please, I thought I’d be able to connect with Avatar Kyoshi better here. This was her adopted homeland. If there’s anywhere in the world I could connect with Kyoshi, this place is my best chance.” 

Suki and Oyaji exchange a glance, she bows her head to the old man, motioning him forward, indicating that he speaks for both of them. “You are welcome to stay here if connecting to Kyoshi is your goal. But know that our Kyoshi Warriors,” he gestures to the kimono-clad girls, “will not hesitate to hasten the Avatar cycle if you pose a threat to the people of this island. Only the Spirits know what some of these people have seen out there in the world, they deserve their peace.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say that I loved all the comments. It always excites me when I get the email saying I've got a new comment, and my brother unfortunately has to deal with me shoving my phone in his face each time a new email pops up. 
> 
> If you weren't aware, I love Suki and Kyoshi so much. So much. I just really love Kyoshi okay.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suki: "Don't worry girls, I'm about to end this man's whole career."

Breakfast was a stupendous affair. The table was laden with dishes of all varieties, pastries, cakes, even a fully smoked fish had been laid out before them. Zuko avoided the fish. He’d had plenty over the last few days, not that fish was bad, just… He didn’t want fish. He reaches over to grab one of the pastries that looked vaguely familiar to something that the head chef used to make back at the Royal Palace. 

He and his little brother had used to sneak into the kitchen and stuff their pockets with as many pastries as they could hold, their father had disavowed them from indulging in such sweets. But if the head chef turned a blind eye and casually left a tray to cool outside where stealthy little thieves could snag a few, they told no one. The pastry reminded him of those, the taste was off - not enough spice in his opinion - but that didn’t stop him from grabbing a few more. 

To the side, a man wearing glasses quickly scribbled something on his paper, taking note of what pastries Zuko grabbed, and what he ignored completely. He had been taking notes since he had arrived at the table. Which had been roughly sunrise. He had a feeling he was being watched, most likely to ensure that he didn’t step out of line, so he shrugged it off. Whatever would make the people hosting him comfortable, he would handle it.

It took a while for Katara and Sokka to come down and join him, an awkward silence settling between him and the scribe as he chewed in silence. It was painfully reminding him of breakfast at the Palace in all the wrong ways. He filled his plate with a few slices of meat and took it to the window, offering it up to Druk who had taken residence outside, finding the low ceilings of the building too cramped. He also looked happy to be having something other than fish. He idly scratched the base of his horns as Druk ate off his plate, taking another one of the pastries and stuffing it in his mouth. Flakes of it fell to his lap, and Druk very eagerly began licking them up.

When Sokka and Katara did come down to join him, it was entirely silent and completely unlike their shared meals on the  _ Ocean Glider. _ Or the meal he had shared with Kikaro and the Lady Gran-Gran. He had hoped that them arriving would break the all too familiar silence at the table. They’re still sleepy, and it’s probably his fault because they had been taking more awake shifts that he had since he still didn’t know how to sail their boat very well. Katara at the very least was eyeing the food on the table. Sokka had simply settled down at one corner and crossed his arms pouting, so unlike himself.

“Sokka, what’s your problem?  _ Eat! _ ” He offers up one of the cakes that he had tried earlier, it was particularly nice. He spots Katara about to take a bite out of the less-than-appetizing orange jellied tart and stops her. He takes it out of her hand and replaces it with a different pastry. “Not that one, this one is much better. Trust me.”

“Not hungry.” He huffs, turning away and returning to pouting. His stomach lets out a grumble. “Traitor.” He mumbles down at himself.

“But you’re always hungry. They even have meat! Druk likes it.” He gestures at Druk who had been trying to sneak the entire plate of pig-chicken off the table. The dragon stops as Zuko looks at him disapprovingly, before wrapping his tongue around one of the slices and swallowing it whole.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s just upset because  _ a bunch of girls _ kicked his butt yesterday.” Her voice mocks her brother, who squints his eyes in annoyance. 

“Sneak attacks don’t count!” His voice pitches upwards suddenly, and Katara laughs with her mouth full and she piles several other things onto her plate. Sokka frowns at her, gets up and starts pacing around the room mumbling to himself. “Tie me up with ropes! I’ll show them a thing or two. I’m not scared of any girl.” 

Katara quirks up an eyebrow, chewing on the jelly tart Zuko told her to avoid as she made a face indicating she didn’t like it - it was heavily spiced to the point of it rivaling potpourri.

“I’m not scared of most girls.” Sokka corrected himself and walked over to the side of the table where Katara was sitting. “Who do they think they are anyway?” He snatches the slice of bread that Katara had spread some cream on and takes a big bite of it. “Mmm… this is tasty.”

“Hey.” Katara pulls her plate away from him. He ignores her action and steals another one of the cakes on her plate shoving it into his mouth. “Why don’t you get your own plate, there’s plenty on the table?” She pulls her plate further away from him and covers her carefully chosen breakfast with her arm to dissuade from any more stealing attempts.

“It’s fun to steal your food. Makes me feel better.” He says between bites of bread. “Now can you put some meat on your plate that’s not fish please?”

Katara looks Sokka straight in his eyes as she puts a slice of meat on her plate, leaves it for a second, then stabs it with a fork and stuffs the entire thing in her mouth, without cutting it. She chews it for a few minutes as Sokka jaw drops (a mix of disgust and pride on his face) before swallowing purposefully. “How’s that work for you?”

“I’ll get my own plate.”He concedes with a prideful nod of approval for his sister. Katara smiles, enjoying her success as Sokka settles himself at the table, piling his plate high with various things, including some that had been outlandish to Zuko, a wrinkly fruit that had a very dry exterior for example.

Zuko gets up, declaring that he was going to go explore the island, see if he could actually connect with Kyoshi. “I’ve got a gut feeling I’ll be able to connect with Kyoshi here.”

“A gut feeling?”

“Don’t dismiss gut feelings, Katara. Although I’m doubtful of anything related to Spirits on principle.”

Zuko takes that as their unwavering support for his idea and leaves the room. The scribe, which Katara had nearly forgotten was there, quickly moves to follow him out. Silently passing the siblings and stopping at the doorway, turning and giving a quick bow, addressing her and Sokka as ‘esteemed friends of the Avatar’. His braid bounced behind him as he shuffled to catch up with Zuko.

“Well that was creepy.”

“Sokka,” she stares down at her plate. 

“If this is about throwing the leftover stew overboard, that was not my fault.” He gestures with the meat bun that he had been eating, the filling spilling out as he moved it. “Or my idea.” He takes another bite of the now empty bun and looks at it disappointed.

“No it’s not abou- Wait, that was you?” He shrugs at her. _ What did I just say? _ She holds up her hands to calm herself and dismisses that. “Zuko’s hiding something from us.”

“Yeah, and?” He puts down the empty bun and picks up a different one. “We all have our secrets, Katara. If he thought it was important he’d tell us.”

“Like how he kept it a secret he was the Avatar?”

“Fair point.” He concedes and chugs down some water.

“I’m going to try and figure out what it is.”

He stops chewing for a second. “Do you want help?” He looks up at her. She had a feeling he had plans for the day, but it felt good to know how quickly Sokka was willing to drop everything to help her sometimes. 

She shakes her head. “It might seem too suspicious if both of us were looking for the same thing.” Plus she wasn’t a hundred percent sure of what she saw, and while she knew Sokka wouldn’t make fun of her for her suspicions, she wanted to have a more concrete idea before she dragged him into things.

He nods. “Well if it were me, I’d probably start with the building that all the people with notepads keep going in and out of.” He gestures behind him, out the window with his thumb while drinking more water. She hadn’t noticed that there were so many people going in and out until Sokka had mentioned it. “Also might take this chance to see if we could get help getting the boat back in the water. And also supplies.”

She nods as she gets up making a mental list of the supplies that they’d need.  _ Ropes. Thread. Needles.  _ “Bye Sokka.”  _ A net if they’d spare it. Rice. Water. Clothes for Zuko. Fruit. Some vegetables. Anything that could keep. _ She heads off to see if she could find Oyaji, or find someone that could tell her which direction she had to walk to find the bay that their boat was beached on. 

***

The scribe had quickly introduced himself as Bo and, having overheard that Zuko was trying to connect with Kyoshi, immediately suggested joining him and his fellow scholars visiting from Ba Sing Se university. They were, apparently, studying everything about the Avatar and were absolutely delighted at the chance to talk with one directly. 

He was quickly smothered by the trio, offering him tea and candies and various other things which they claimed had been shipped directly from Ba Sing Se. He recognized a few things as poor imitations of things from the Fire Nation, and pointed out how they lacked the traditional seal hidden away in the corner that verified that it was in fact made by traditional Fire Nation weavers.

“Absolutely fascinating.” They drag more items out from their chests and ask him to verify the authenticity behind them, and asked him to verify some of the translations they had of the old draconic Fire Nation script that was really only ever used by the Fire Sages. He wasn’t very good at reading it but could eke out a few phrases and a couple words that might be useful for them.

“Incredible. Does everyone in the Fire Nation learn the language of the Fire Sages?”  _ Agni strike me down.  _ “In the Earth Kingdom we’d never let our sacred script be so well known.” 

“It was insisted that I had at least a passable understanding of the language.” He wasn’t lying. As the Crown Prince he was taught it since the Fire Lords of old had written their journals and secrets for future Fire Lords in a modified version of that script. The average Fire Nation citizen wouldn’t know it. He wasn’t lying. He just didn’t answer their question.

They started asking him about schooling in the Fire Nation, he admitted that he wasn’t taught in one of the formal academies. Didn’t explain that it was because he had a small army of private tutors instead. They seemed disappointed that he couldn’t tell them how it worked. The conversation then turned to the history of the Fire Nation, and every word that came out of their mouth was wrong and blatant lies. At least the things from before a hundred years ago were wrong, he couldn’t say anything about anything past that. 

He slipped out as they began to argue over the Fall of Garsai and whether the troops had actually been led by then Crown Prince Azulon or if that was just rumor. He couldn’t bear hearing it anymore. He had gotten pretty far from them before they realized that he had disappeared and had jumped out of the building and began to run after him. He manages to distract them with a well placed fire kick. It was controlled and was only for show, and he dove into one of the alleys as they cooed over the flames and quickly tried to draw down his technique.

He does what he always did whenever he found the servants too suffocating back home. He climbs up a tree and stays very still.

***

She made quick work of finding Oyaji, and he had been more than happy to send off a party of volunteers from the village to pull their boat back into the water. Katara had even offered up her own waterbending skills as help, but Oyaji insisted that they would be able to handle it, and had sworn that it was the least they could do for the Avatar and his friends. She rolled her eyes at that statement. They were allies at best. And that was in doubt right now. 

She recites the list of supplies that she had thought up on her way to Oyaji and asked him where she would be able to acquire things. He gestured vaguely at the whole town and told her that there were plenty of people who’d be willing to supply her with various things, she just needed to ask. She grabbed an empty basket from the  _ Ocean Glider _ and one of the pouches that had contained coins that the South Pole used when they traded with outsiders. She hoped it would be more than enough for food and clothing, she wasn’t very familiar with using money.

She hadn’t used a single coin. When she’d asked, the townsfolk recognized her as travelling with the Avatar and had insisted that she would be able to take as much as she needed and wanted. Every one of them was so excited to help the Avatar. They didn’t even know who he was. Or what she thought he was. She’d quickly filled her basket with non-perishable food, and a few of the fishermen who cooked had even written down recipes that she’d be able to make during long voyages at sea. Honestly she was maybe most thankful for those.

She’d managed to get everything on her list, with a few things being promised to be directly delivered to their ship as soon as it was docked properly so she wouldn’t have to carry it around all day. A few of the boys around her age had even offered to carry her full basket back to Oyaji’s house for her, cheeks blushing and refusing to make eye contact. One of the Kyoshi Warriors who had just come from the docks laughed and simply took the basket from Katara, the boys stumbled at their words and blushed even harder after that, quickly disappearing as they were shamed back to work by doting parents. 

She was in the middle of trying to acquire clothing that wasn’t the red of the Fire Nation when she saw Zuko being dragged by a little girl. He waved at her and she very pointedly refused to look at him. She can’t help but notice though that he carries himself stiffly while wearing the red. That he looked like he felt more comfortable when he was wearing Sokka’s ill-fitting clothes, or Kikaro’s oversized parka, than when he was wearing clothes that had been perfectly fitted to him.

He disappears into one of the houses and Katara points back in his general direction. “I need clothing for him.”

“Probably not a good idea for him to wear Fire Nation clothes while traveling in the Earth Kingdom.” She nods.  _ Something like that _ . The lady running the stands says that she might have something that would work, and she wouldn’t even need to alter it that much. Promised to leave room for him to grow. Katara tries to pay her one of the larger coins, clothing is difficult to come by. She knows this. 

She hands her one shirt that she thinks will fit for Zuko to wear tomorrow. “Anything for the Avatar.” That leaves her with a dry throat.  _ You don’t even know who he is.  _ She leaves a few coins under some of the fabric that she had been allowed to touch. The lady would find it later, and by then they’d be long gone, and she’d be able to get herself good thick clothing to replace whatever she had given Zuko. She deserved that much.

***

He sighs in relief as the gaggle of historians walk underneath the tree unaware of his presence. He waits a few seconds before switching from hanging in a tree to a rooftop. He slides down the roof side, knocking down some of the dead leaves that had collected there and lands silently in one of the side alleys between the houses. 

He felt bad for ditching the scholars, most had meant well asking all their questions and tending to his every whim, but it had been smothering, and their questions soon strayed to things he didn’t want to answer, at least not yet. It was also a lot to take in all at once, the amount of propaganda and lies that had been coming out of the Fire Nation. If the Earth Kingdom scholars were to be believed, Sozin had rewritten the entire history of the Fire Nation, and little Az - who had always loved Druk - had started the tradition of dragon hunting. Not even getting into how he had been entirely erased from the family records. 

He’d expected some of this, but not all of it. He sat down in the dirt and hugged his knees, relishing the silence. A noise at the end of the alley caught his attention, and his head jotted up as he sprung up, ready to hide from the scholars if necessary. He put up his fists, they had been fascinated with firebending before, and he hoped he’d be able to use it as a distraction again to escape.

He didn’t find one of the scholars at the edge of the alley.

It had been a little girl who had taken one look at his Fire Nation regalia and his firebending stance and had run away. 

He drops his shoulders and groans in frustration, turning his back to the village and pacing towards the forest. He can’t do anything right, and now he’d likely traumatized a poor little girl who had just been taking a walk in her village.  _ Great Avatar I’m turning out to be _ . There’s more noise in the alley and he turns quickly again, keeping his hands down to make sure he didn’t look like a threat.

The girl came back running with one of the Kyoshi Warriors in tow. She pointed at him, and then hid behind the warrior’s skirts. The warrior took one look at him and recognized him as the Avatar that they had captured yesterday. She knelt down to the little girl’s height, and extended her hand out towards Zuko. “This is the Avatar. He’s a friend.” 

Zuko waved half-heartedly and the little girl jumped up in excitement. Taking his smile and wave as an invitation, she runs up to him and begins pulling at his arm, dragging him in the direction of a building and talking much faster than he thought was possible. As he was dragged away, he threw a pleading look at the Kyoshi Warrior. He didn’t know proper protocol for stopping a five year old, and he had a feeling that even if he had it wouldn’t have worked on the overzealous girl. The Kyoshi Warrior offered him no pity, instead laughing heartily as the little girl continued to talk without breathing.

He caught a few things like how her name was Su and she had a sister who knew everything about Avatar Kyoshi and was studying with the Earth Sages in the mainland. And how she was now dragging him to the Kyoshi not-museum. She had looked around to check if they were being listened on before whispering it much too loudly in his ear.

He resigned himself to being led by little Su, the “not-museum” was probably a pretty good chance of connecting with Avatar Kyoshi. At least it was a better plan than hiding out on various rooftops in case the scholars came looking for him again. Might actually be useful. And he owed the girl at least this much considering that he had scared her enough that she had gone running to fetch a Kyoshi Warrior to fight him.

He stops himself from being dragged enough to wave to Katara and point at Su. Hopefully she understood that he was showing her exactly who to look for if he ended up disappearing. Katara squinted her eyes when she saw him, and threw her head to the side, stuffing her basket with fruit more forcefully than she had before. He doesn’t get a chance to figure out if he’d done anything to anger her as Su begins pulling him with greater strength than he had thought the girl had, and had recruited several of her friends to push him into the building.

***

He hears the sounds of fighting and training, familiar sounds, and he follows them to a small house surrounded by trees. He looks through the window and spots six of the Kyoshi Warriors training. Five of them are performing a routine with their fans in perfect unison, mirroring the actions of their leader across from them. He recognizes the headpiece of the leader from yesterday.  _ Suki _ . 

He knocks on the door, and without waiting for a reply opens it and peeks his head in. “Sorry ladies.” He smiles smugly and enters. Suki and the other warriors stop their exercise and close their fans. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your dance lesson.” One of them moves to forcibly expel him, but Suki opens her fan and stops her mid-step. “I was just looking for somewhere to get a little workout?” He begins to stretch.

“Well. You’re in the right place.” Suki’s voice is tight. Sokka ignores the venom in her voice and continues to loosen his hips. “Sorry about yesterday. I didn’t know that you were friends with the Avatar.” 

Sokka stops for a second. That almost sounded genuine. He ignores it, and stretches out his arm, going through the motions of a few swings. “It’s alright. I mean  _ normally _ I’d hold a grudge, but seeing as you guys are a bunch of  _ girls _ , I’ll make an exception. Can’t exactly hold it against you for resorting to such  _ underhanded tactics _ like ambushing when fighting against a real enemy.” 

Another one of the girls huffs and draws out her fan. Suki stops her with her other arm. She tilts her head back and makes eye contact with the remaining warriors.  _ This one is mine _ . The two of them stand back, holding their heads high, smiles are exchanged in the background. Suki clears her throat. “I should hope so.” She makes her voice higher on purpose. “A big strong man like you? We wouldn’t stand a chance.” She rolls her head and bats her eyelashes at one of the Kyoshi Warriors. She stifles a giggle. Sokka doesn’t notice.

“True,” he says smuggly, still not catching onto the sarcasm in Suki’s tone. “But don’t feel too bad. After all, I’m one of the best warriors in the South Pole.” He doesn’t mention that most of them are either younger than him, or retired, and that the Real warriors were out fighting. But they don’t need to know that.

“Wooow! One of the best warriors, huh?” She glances back at the other Kyoshi Warriors and breaks character for a split second to smile at them. “In the  _ whole _ South Pole?” She turns her head quickly, catching Sokka unaware. He flinches at the sudden movement, and nearly loses his balance. “Maybe you’d be kind enough to give us a little demonstration?”

“Oh…” His eyes widen upon hearing the unexpected request. This was not going to plan. “Well. I mean. I…” He stutters out, desperately trying to think of a reason not to comply with the rather reasonable request.

“Come on. Girls, wouldn’t you like him to show us some moves?” She turns and motions at the rest of the Kyoshi Warriors. A few of them giggle and smile and nod in agreement. A pair whisper into each other’s years before crossing their arms and giving a single curt nod, smiling brightly like they knew what was about to happen.

Sokka gulps, but puffs out his chest. “Well, if that’s what you want. I’d be happy to.” He places his hands on Suki’s shoulders in order to push her back a little. She gives a quick glance at his hands, unimpressed, and doesn’t move. “Okay. So you’ll be standing here then. Now, this may be a little tough, but try and block me.”

He takes a fighting position, knees bent, jumps around a bit to see her reaction. She doesn’t move a muscle.  _ Okay, well I warned her _ . He throws a punch. She doesn’t move, and easily defends herself, deflecting his arm and thrusting her closed fan against his shoulder. He cries out in pain and staggers backwards.

“Ah.” He rubs his hurt shoulder. “Good. Of course I was going easy on you. So I should have expected you’d have been able to handle that.” It had happened so quickly and she’d returned back to her starting position, so he wasn’t exactly sure what she had done.

“Of course.” She answers mockingly, the same confident smile that she had shown the Kyoshi Warriors.

“Alright then. Let’s see if you can handle  _ this. _ ” He attempts to hit Suki with a roundhouse kick, trying to catch her off guard and mid-conversation. She quickly dodges under his outstretched lg and pushes him off balance. He lands flat on his back with a loud thud against the wooden floor. The soft training mat now held in the hands of two of the Kyoshi Warriors who were grinning mischievously. Suki turns to the rest of the warriors and lazily opens one of her fans to wave herself some air.

Dazed and shocked at his rough landing, he takes a few seconds to realize what had happened. He spots Suki’s clear mockery of him and loses his temper. “That does it!” His voice cracks. As if he wasn’t already making a fool of himself. He gets up and charges at her again while her back is turned.  _ I’ve got you now- _

Suki closes her fan with a snap, throwing it at one of the warriors, and moves out of the way of his charge. Spinning, she grabs him by the arm with her right hand, while she pushes against his shoulder with her left hand, spinning him around in one direction, before switching positions and spinning him around in the other. When she deems him sufficiently dizzy, she stops suddenly, and Sokka is flung forward by his momentum. She loosens his belt and ties his left hand to his right foot behind his back in one swift movement. Sokka tries to maintain his balance for a while by jumping on one leg and waving his arms, but it’s a lost battle as Sukki extends her right foot in front of him and he smacks down flat on his face on the mat that had been replaced on the ground.

She looms over him, arms crossed in victory. “Anything else you want to teach us?” Sokka blushes in humiliation and ducks his head as the Kyoshi Warriors no longer hold back their laughter. “No? Then get  _ out _ !” She whips her arm in the direction of the door and puts her other hand on her hip as she leans down.

He is unceremoniously picked up by two of the Kyoshi Warriors and tossed out of the training hall and onto the dirt outside. They slide the door closed on him, leaving him to ponder his new place in the world as they continue their training as if this entire exchange was nothing more than mid-morning entertainment organized by their leader.

***

Su had thrown off her shoes and loudly declared that she was going to get her father from the kitchen before running off down the hall. Leaving Zuko alone in the sparsely decorated room. He sat down and began to unlace his boots, following Su’s lead. He took longer than he was willing to admit to get the laces loose enough that he could slip his foot out. He had nearly managed to wriggle one of his feet out when Su returned with her father.

The man chuckled, “There’s no need to do that.” Bowing slightly and carrying Su in his arms. Another child no more than a few months old was slung across his back. Zuko bowed back putting a fist to his palm in the traditional Fire Nation greeting. “Never thought I’d get greeted that way.” Su slides down her father’s side and runs up to Zuko. 

She stands at his side and presents him to her father. “See I brought you the Avatar!”

“I can see that,” he affectionately rubs the top of Su’s head. “Why don’t you bring some of the buns from the kitchen? They should be cool enough now.” Su nods and races off on her quest. He smiles fondly as he watches her go. “You want to know more about Kyoshi?”

“Kind of?” He shrugs. “I want to connect with her.”

“Speak to your past life?” He suggests, a little too knowingly.

“How do you know?”

“I married into her family, her great something great granddaughter.” He waves his hand dismissively, noting that the exact nature of the relationship was not exactly important.

“Was the family tree that messy?” He asks, thinking of the state of his own.

“No, but the generations tended to mix together for her. Happens when you live that long.” He shrugs and shifts his sling so that he can cradle the baby to his chest. “You bury the people you care about.” There’s a sadness in his voice.

“I’m sorry.” The words feel empty to Zuko, but he’s not sure what else he can say. The man hums his thanks in response as he coos and rocks his child. 

“Life happens. You of all people would know.” He eyes Zuko’s bandaged face, the burn itches under the cloth covering that he’d wrapped around it. 

Zuko doesn’t respond.

“Unfortunately, my other daughter, Koko, is the real Kyoshi expert in the family. But she’s at the Earth Sages’ temple right now. I can try to answer your questions, but I’ll be the first to admit: I’m a better cook than curator. ”

“Ooh I can tell you about the Kyoshi Warriors!” Su pops in. “They’re the coolest. I want to be one when I get older.” She strikes one of their combat poses, a firm stance and one hand in front holding an imaginary fan.

“I’m sure they’d be happy to have you.” Su glows at Zuko’s praise, and strikes another pose. 

“You’re getting much better at that Su, although maybe we should the young Avatar your great gran Kyoshi’s things.” Su nodded sagely, immediately quieting down. 

“We don’t have much,” he admits as he leads Zuko down the steps, hidden behind a false wall in one of the closets in the house. Su clings to her father tightly as they go down into the dark chamber below the house, a small lamp lighting their way. “Most of the weapons were taken by the Earth Kingdom sages a few years back, and her other personal belongings ended up being distributed to her children and grandchildren, and the townsfolk. So there’s no real way to tell you what is and isn’t actually Kyoshi’s.” 

He opens the door at the bottom of the steps revealing a well-maintained cavern. He sets the lamp down on one of the tables, illuminating the immediate area. “She made this as a place for our people to hide if we were ever attacked.” He gestures out towards the monumental cavern. “The whole town could fit here. But we never needed to. She always protected us,” he points to the mural illuminated by the lamp. 

Kyoshi stood tall with one of her fans open, leading the people of the newly formed Kyoshi Island. “It was her promise on the day that she made the island. That she would always protect the innocent. And when she couldn’t anymore, the Kyoshi Warriors protected us.”

Zuko stood staring at Kyoshi in the mural, already he had learned of the many promises that she had made, and wondered how he could ever be able to keep them all. How would he be able to protect, not only the people of Kyoshi Island, but the rest of the world? The light grew fainter, and the edges of the mural faded away into darkness until only Kyoshi’s figure was still illuminated.

Su’s father had gone forward deeper into the cavern, and had taken the lamp with him. “That’s her kimono,” he gestures to a large swathe of green and gold cloth with armor laid over it. Similar to what Suki and the other Kyoshi Warriors were wearing, at a much larger scale. He looked closely at the cloth and found it to be embroidered in gold and darker green thread. He could pick out the vague outlines of badgermoles worked into the overall design of her dress and foxes running along the hemline.

“And her boots.” He gestures proudly at a pair of really large brown boots displayed to the side of her kimono.

“These were her boots? Her feet must have been enormous!”  _ Big shoes to fill, as if everything else hadn’t already confirmed that. _

“The biggest of any Avatar. She was the tallest Avatar up to date. She towered over her friends and foes alike. Made her easy to spot in a crowd. Just look for the tall lady with scary face paint.” He joked.

“Papa, the face paint has meaning.” He gently tapped his daughter’s nose. Su launches into a long explanation into the meaning behind the paint, the colors, even the stroke of the colors and directions you apply it having meaning. Her father smiles proudly, listening intently even though he’s likely heard it dozens of times before, cradling his youngest child and holding her up to see the various artifacts of her great grandmother and her impassioned sister’s explanations. 

He does his best to pay attention, and catches some of it. But she’s standing to his left, and everything from that side comes in muddled and distant. His eyes end up wandering back to the kimono and then back to the boots, dread filling his gut. A glimmer of gold catches his eyes for a second and he turns his head to see what had caused it.

A pair of war fans were on display, one fully extended held up, and the other closed and lain on the display. The symbols for  _ Justice _ and  _ Peace _ were carved into the handles of the fans. Etched into the metal were sky bison, and around them - added afterwards no doubt - were cresting waves and dragons. He reaches out his hands struck with a sudden want to hold them.

“Kyoshi’s fans. Her favored weapons. She used them to enhance and control her bending you know.” Su’s father catches him staring at them. He pauses for a moment. “Would you like to hold them?” Zuko nods dumbly, as he readjusts the baby in his sling to allow him both free hands and hands Su the lantern. Su’s father reaches out to grab the fans and hands them gently to Zuko.

“They’re heavier than I expected.” He opens and closes the fan a few times to get the feel of them. They’re in near perfect condition, well-taken care of. He can see his reflection in the gilded surface. 

“It’s a heavy burden to bear.” Zuko looks abruptly up at the man, holding his two children in his arms.  _ Do you mean the fans themselves? Or being Avatar? Or being asked to protect people when you know you’re not capable of it? _ “But we bear it however we can. Leaning on others when we can too.” He rubs his cheek against Su’s and she giggles as the man’s prickly beard tickles her. “Isn’t that right?”

Zuko nods, looking back at his reflection in the fans. Sokka and Katara’s words to him at the Southern Air Temple come back to him:  _ You don’t have to do it alone. _ He takes in a deep breath. “Well?”

He breathes in deeply and feels “Nothing.” He shuts the fans and hands them back, doing his best to hide his own disappointment. With a heavy sigh Su’s father replaces the fans back on the display, and takes the lantern from Su. 

“I’d have offered you a chance to read her journals, but Koko took them to be placed in the Earth Sages’ archives.” He puts a gentle hand on Zuko’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry we couldn’t have been more help.”

“No, don’t be sorry. You were plenty helpful.” Zuko insists. “It’s my fault.” He squeezes his shoulder again but doesn’t disagree out loud. “Thank you.” He heads to the door and bows deeply, like how the Earth Kingdom dignitaries used to do on their visits.

“You know where to find us if you want to try again later.” He nods and Su waves aggressively her goodbye. Even the baby in his arms turns to see Zuko leave, giving him a toothless giggle and a small wave aided by Su. He can’t help but to smile and wave back as he steps out to the main road in the village.

He lets the disappointment in himself hang heavy on him as he idly wanders around, picking at his brain for any other possible leads and connections. He tries not to take it personally when people flinch when he passes by, reacting to his Fire Nation clothing. He hears a few of them asking for Kyoshi’s protection on instinct as their grips tighten on whatever they were carrying and children whisked away to be hidden in skirts. It’s not him they fear, but what he was a part of. What he used to be. What he maybe still was. 

Despite his aimless wanderings, he ends up at the foot of Kyoshi’s statue again. Still unsure of what to do. He sits down in the sun, letting himself absorb its gentle warmth. It was still a bit too cold for his liking, and his clothing was designed to be breathable to cope with the heat and humidity of home. It was too thin for the early autumn chill that pervaded the island. He hoped that Katara would help him acquire new clothes; they had talked about that back on the  _ Ocean Glider _ . He wasn’t sure how to acquire clothing to begin with, the servants had always taken care of that.

A red fox interrupts his thoughts, boldly walking up to him. It has white markings on its face around its eyes that oddly look like the face paint Kyoshi wore. It just stood in front of him, waiting. It doesn’t run scared when Zuko stands to greet it, simply scratching its ear and yawning in response. It moves slightly when Zuko approaches it, but only moves enough to keep the same distance between them.

He moves towards the fox, and the fox moves away from him. He moves away from the fox, and the fox moves towards him. A sudden noise from town catches both their attentions, and the fox bolts to the side of the road. Zuko turns away from the fox to find the trio of scholars that he had abandoned earlier approaching him on a slab of rock that one of them was earthbending. He catches one more glimpse of the fox in the underbrush as he dashes away the scholars, heading towards the forest where he thinks he can lose them - or at least force them to abandon using their earthbending to travel. He can’t shake the feeling that he knows the fox somehow.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone at any point in time where something is going wrong: Oh Avatar Kyoshi, we're really in this now.

He takes a deep calming breath to center himself as he stares up at the training hall doors. “You’ve got this.” He mumbles to himself as he approaches the sliding doors again, determined that this time it’ll turn out differently. He slides the door open, or tries to. It gets stuck when it is about halfway open. He struggles with it for a few seconds when he realizes that the warriors had stopped their training and fallen silent, staring at him.

“Uh … Hey, Suki.” He waves awkwardly at her. “Kyoshi Warriors.” He acknowledges the rest of them with a nod.

Suki rolls her eyes and turns to face him, arms crossed. “Hoping for  _ another dance lesson?” _ The hostility in her voice hurts. But he deserves it.

“No… I … well yes?” He tilts his head in confusion for a second, putting his finger on his chin to think about what Suki meant when she said “dance lesson.”

“Spit it out. What. Do. You. Want?”

He drops to his knees in front of her. “I would be honored if you would teach me.” He bows to Suki. “If you would all teach me.”

“Even if we’re  _ girls _ ?” She’s looking down at him. The anger in her eyes 

“I’m sorry I insulted you earlier. I was… wrong.”

Suki rolls her head back to turn to her Warriors. “We don’t normally teach outsiders.” She turns to look at her second-in-command Rin at her right - their one exception. “And never  _ boys _ .”

“Please make an exception.” He raises his head to plead with her, and quickly bows it again as he sees her anger has not receded. “I won’t let you down. I promise.” He sits up and looks at her feet.

“Why?” It’s not Suki who asks. One of the Kyoshi Warriors had stepped up to Suki’s right and was glaring at him. Suki had seemed surprised that she had spoken at all. 

_ Why? _ He doesn’t answer for a few seconds gathering his thoughts.

“If you can’t even answer that, we won’t even consider-”

“Because I want to protect them.” He looks up at the Warriors determination in his eyes. “That’s why we fight. There are people we need - we want - to protect. Katara and Zuko might be strong benders.” He shakes his head in disbelief that he’s even saying this. “Zuko is even the Avatar. And Katara.” He smiles fondly at the thought of his sister and lets out a small laugh. “Don’t even get me started on what Katara can do. They might not even need me.” he swallows and looks down sadly. “But I want to keep them safe.” His grip on his pants tightens. “I need to.”

“Alright.” Suki’s voice is soft. Her eyes are closed when he looks up in surprise at her acceptance. She understands. “But you have to follow all of our traditions.” The softness in her voice is gone. But it exists. 

“Of course.” He smiles eagerly.

“And I mean  _ all _ of them.” Behind her the Kyoshi Warriors gather around her and loom over him, their sinister smiles accentuated by their face paint.

***

“Do I really have to wear this?” He looks down at the typical green kimono of the Kyoshi Warriors, and lifts the edge of the skirt. “I understand the armor and the face paint. But this-” he gestures at the kimono “-this feels a little girly.” He lowers his arms in defeat and wraps them around himself. The Warriors that had shown him how to don the clothes and armor glare at him. “Sorry” He ducks his head in apology, and bows slightly.

“It’s a warrior’s uniform. You should be proud to wear it. Like the colors in our face paint it has a deeper meaning. The silk threads symbolize the brave blood that flows through our veins.” She picks up Sokka’s skirt and lifts it showing off the silk. “The gold insignia represents the honor of the warrior’s heart.” She gestures at the insignias on her own armor. “Wearing this is the highest honor for a Kyoshi Warrior. It is in itself a promise to the people who see us. That we, like Avatar Kyoshi our founder, will be bringers of peace and agents of justice.”

“Bravery and Honor.” Sokka clenches his fist and smiles. “I can get behind that.”

Zuko jumps in through the window, landing silently on the training mats as he rolls to a stop. He dusts himself off, and is halfway through climbing out the window and onto the roof when he notices everyone had stopped to stare at him. “Oh. Hi, Sokka.” He waves. 

Sokka winces upon hearing his name and turns his eyes and shoulders away in embarrassment as he waves back. 

“It’s a pretty...” he actually looks at what Sokka is wearing and pauses trying to find the right words. “...robe, but green isn't your color.” He pulls himself up onto the roof disappearing from sight as the doors burst open and no less than three of the students studying the history of Avatar Kyoshi burst into the training room. 

Rin crosses her arms and stands before the trio of Avatar pursuers. Staring them down as Sokka ducks behind the other Kyoshi Warriors. “We don’t like our training being interrupted.” The trio shirk back at the stares of the tall girl doing her best impersonation of Avatar Kyoshi. 

“Of course, we’re so sorry. We don’t want to intrude on the continuation of the noble work of Avatar Kyoshi.” They bow as they say it and back out heads still bowed.

When the trio are out of hearing rage, Rin voices her frustrations. “Blasted Earth Kingdom scholars. Always getting underfoot like a herd of feral fire ferrets. You’d think they’d have learned by now to avoid this area.” She kicks one of the stones in their general direction for good measure.

***

He huffs as he goes through the training motions for what feels like the hundredth time, but what he knows is more like the twentieth. The rest of the Kyoshi Warriors had headed back to town as soon as the sun had begun to set, wishing him well. Some had even asked if he had wanted to join them for dinner (the Avatar and his sister being invited as well of course). He thanked them for the offer but insisted on staying late to practice. He’d promised he wouldn’t disappoint them. 

They all exchanged that same glance with each other. Having been new recruits desperate to prove themselves not so long ago, they understood. Some were even kind enough to recommend which berries and herbs he could mix to make a salve to help with his sore muscles. He was sure Katara would be able to help him with that. 

“You’re not going to master it in one day. Not even Kyoshi was that good.” His thoughts interrupted, he turns and spots Suki slumped against the door frame.  _ How long had she been standing there? _ “Your technique has improved a lot since this morning though.”

“I think I’m starting to get it.” He goes through the stances that Lu had pain-stakingly worked through with him, step by step. Feeling a little bold he pulls out a fan and starts mimicking some of the more advanced moves he had seen the other warriors practice. As a final move, he quickly closes the fan and throws it out through the training room door. It flies past Suki and straight into a tree, knocking down some of the dead leaves still on its branches.

“It’s not about strength. Our technique is about using your opponent's force against them.” She pushes herself off the frame with a soft kick turning to look away from where the fan hit the tree and to Sokka.

“Like waterbending.” Suki tilts her head in confusion. “I - uhm - used to listen in on Katara’s lessons on waterbending when I was younger. Thought that maybe if I knew more about the technique, I’d be able to actually be able to do it one day. That’s not how it works though.” He shrugs.

“Hmmm. Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind next time we fight a waterbender. You’re still too stiff, that might work when you have to provide power behind your club swing, but it won’t work here. Loosen up.” She corrects his stance and retracts her own fan from her belt and points it at Sokka. He takes up one of the defensive positions the girls had shown him earlier. “Think of the fan as an extension of your arm. Wait for an opening and then…” 

She charges at Sokka, but he manages to evade her attack and uses the momentum of her speed against her, knocking her down to the floor.

“Like that?” 

Suki gets up quickly, and dusts herself off. “I fell on purpose to make you  _ feel _ better.”

“I got you! Admit it I got you!” He points at her, ecstatic at his success.

Suki grabs his finger and twists it, twisting Sokka’s arm by extension. “Okay. It was a lucky shot.” Sokka twitches and grunts in pain. She lets go of him. “Let’s see if you can do it again.” Suki opens her fan threateningly and starts to circle around Sokka.

Sokka mimics her movements. “Can I ask why Rin doesn’t seem too happy about the scholars?” Suki lunges at him, and he rolls out of the way. Old habits dying hard.

“We’re practicing redirection, not dodging.” She waits for him to get back up again before beginning to circle again. “They’ve been here a while now. Say they’re studying the life of Avatar Kyoshi. Keep trying to smuggle artifacts back to Ba Sing Se. Claim we can’t protect them here.” Sokka lunges at her and she swats it away with her fan, before closing it quickly and knocking it on his head. 

He drops and rubs where the butt of the fan hit. “Although I think we can protect them plenty fine. We have managed to stay out of the war this long.” She extends a hand to help him up as he continues to rub his head. “Rin has bad experiences with Ba Sing Se, so all their snooping hits her the hardest.” 

Sokka hums thoughtfully.  _ I’ll have to tell Katara later _ . He gets up, wincing as he grabs at his aching sides. “I think I’ve had enough for the day. I know I’ll feel the half dozen times Rin flung me over her shoulder tomorrow morning.” 

Suki bursts out laughing. “Oh, she was going easy on you because it was your first day.” Sokka gritted his teeth at the thought of the Kyoshi Warriors not taking it easy on him. He wouldn’t survive. Suki caught on to his thoughts because she laughed some more. “Don’t worry they’ll leave you put together enough for the day after. I have it on good word that you’re their new favorite punching bag.” She nudges his shoulder with her fist playfully.

He winces and grabs at it, still sore from the bout of practice wrestling with Lu. “Can we use my definition of put together?” He grumbled, still rubbing his shoulder as he changed back into his clothes and wiped off the face paint. He vaguely wondered where Zuko had ended up after climbing the gym’s roof on his way back to Oyaji’s house.

***

Sokka heads back out for training early in the morning, just as the sun rises. He even manages to catch a glimpse of Zuko sneaking out through one of the upstairs windows in order to avoid the small army of historians that had taken to following him around like a herd of lost turtle-ducklings. Although Zuko insisted that turdle-ducks would never be this pushy. Sokka was still surprised that he was so skilled at sneaking around, and idly wondered what use would a prince have for that skill.

Zuko had spent years honing his ability to sneak around. It was the only way he was able to grant himself a few minutes of peace and freedom and solitude as the Crown Prince. It was proving especially useful now, as he hid away from the Earth Kingdom scholars. He’d indulge their questions some other time, since they seemed to have a never-ending stream of questions for him. 

He’d nearly slipped up and talked about things that only a member of the Royal Family would know. Both Sokka and Katara had looked at him when he had revealed a little too much about exactly what the head chef put into the morning pastries that were presented to visiting dignitaries. Their look didn’t reveal whether they knew or not, but he had to be more careful about it. If they didn’t know they at least had their suspicions.

He puts aside those thoughts to focus on the task he had given himself for the day: Find the fox again. Distractions always helped, and while he was focused on that he wouldn’t give his mind the chance to drift away and think about the many other things he wasn’t ready to deal with. Or accept. Or process. His mind was on The Fox; the vaguely familiar fox. Who had run away when other people had appeared but not from him. If he searched for it alone, he was bound to find it.

***

Zuko had searched the entire area around the village at least twice. Possibly thrice. Some of the trees looked the same so he wasn’t sure. He had found a secluded cove, had seen one of the fishing boats tow the  _ Ocean Glider _ to the wharf proper, had even stood so still in the forest that one of the birds had used his head as a temporary perch before he had sneezed and sent it flying in alarm. Still no fox. 

He swallowed back his frustration and decided to head towards the building where the Kyoshi Warriors had been training yesterday. The fox probably wouldn’t approach it, but he needed to spend some time around people - or he’d end up pulling his hair out in frustration. He was also hoping that the threat that the Warriors had given the scholars yesterday would also make them unlikely to be there, he didn’t have the patience to deal with them right now. But didn’t want to lash out.

He approached the building silently from its back, the Kyoshi Warriors were going through a training sequence outside, most of them practicing with fans and swords, and a pair were practicing archery with the pinpoint precision that matched the Yuyan Archers. Not wanting to disturb their practice again, Zuko shimmies up a tree and walks across one of its larger branches until he can jump on the roof. It’s second nature at this point, and he lands silently despite the clay tiles of the roof. He elbow crawls towards the edge of the roof and settles down to look at the various bouts of sparring. 

He quickly spots Sokka, he’s the only one wearing his hair up in a “wolf tail”. The rest of the other warriors sported longer hair, tied near the end like Kyoshi, or short bobs tied back by their headbands to keep their hair out of their face. The older ones tended to favor the longer hair style. Sokka is against one of the older ones, defending against her sword strikes with fans. It hardly seems fair to Zuko, but then war hardly ever is. At least here, the older warrior was holding back, and calling out where she was attacking as a warning. No real battle would give Sokka that luxury. The rest of the Fire Nation certainly wouldn’t.

***

Her plan to ask the scholars from Ba Sing Se had seemed like a great idea in the morning. Gran-Gran had always told them that Ba Sing Se was a great place of learning and culture - even when her comments were always laced with the venom she reserved for when she spoke about the Northern Water Tribe. So it was with Gran-Gran’s seal of approval that she had approached them. And she had not gotten a single word in since then.

Bo, Tu, and Yao had taken her question to talk about the Fire Nation and had decided to tell their life stories about studying the Fire Nation, rather than anything about the Fire Nation itself. And then inevitably, somehow, she wasn’t even sure how, the conversation had turned to talking about Ba Sing Se, and how it was obviously the political and cultural center of not just the Earth Kingdom but the world. She sincerely doubted that. Any time she would bring that into question her opinions would be laughed down by them. And they’d begin again, completely ignoring her. 

She understood why Zuko had spent most of the day yesterday hiding from them. And why he had disappeared before sunrise today. She fakes a laugh at one of their jokes that was very much not funny, anything to get them to move on. She stifles a yawn, disguising it as a cough, as their conversation turns to fashion in the upper ring of Ba Sing Se, of all things. She rolls her eyes as the three of them get into a debate as to how you were able to differentiate between what they called true noble families of the ancient Earth Kingdom, and what they called the pretenders that had gathered power recently. She curses herself for getting herself trapped in this. 

A single word catches her attention.  _ Hair Ornaments. _ They were talking about hair ornaments, she could use that. She asked about hair ornaments in the Earth Kingdom, and for good measure asked what about them made them unique compared to the hair ornaments of the other nations. She batted her eyelashes for good measure.

A few hours later, after hearing far too many details about the pin making industry of the Northern Earth Kingdom, moderating an argument over what the true shade of jade green is - apparently shades of green have names - and what other people think they mean when they use the phrase jade green, and explaining several times - to no avail - how the Water Tribes were in fact distinct and not the same thing, she had succeeded in learning three key things. 

First, the Earth Kingdom, for the most part, knows nothing about the other Nations - it barely knows things about itself. 

Second, it was useless and a waste of her time and energy to try and explain some of those differences - her efforts would be better suited elsewhere, like tearing down the Spirits-damned walls of Ba Sing Se. 

And third, most relevant to her original mission, while many people of the Fire Nation wear their hair up, and simple bands were used to decorate their hair, only those very close to the Royal Family (if not members of the family itself) were allowed to use hair pieces that looked anything like flames.

Her worst suspicions had been confirmed. Not only was Zuko Fire Nation, but he was a part of the worst of the bunch. She forces out a grin and clenches her fists as she says her goodbyes burying her worries as she formulates a plan to find Sokka and keep a tighter leash on Zuko. Yao stops her before leaving, insisting that it was in proper form to bow as one left. She clenches her skirts and mockingly bows to three of them - the way that they said men should bow to high class women. Going so far as to wish blessings upon their children and their grandchildren without masking the venom in her voice that clearly told them she hoped they choked on their tea. Their looks of surprise and fear was almost worth the time she had wasted here. 

She headed out towards the center of town, keeping an eye on the various rooftops that she had seen Zuko on yesterday. She is waved down by Oyaji, who proudly presents her the  _ Ocean Glider _ back in the water, and fully de-barnacled. Several of the townsfolk were loading various supplies onto the ship, more than she had been able to pay for yesterday. Oyaji dismisses her concerns about the cost, calls it paying back for everything that Kyoshi had done for them, and insisting that it was an honor to help the Avatar. 

_ The Avatar _ . “Have you seen  _ him _ around?” She asks casually, trying not to let on to what she had just discovered. 

The old man shakes his head and strokes his beard in thought. “I haven’t seen him, but a few of the girls,” he motions to the Kyoshi Warriors who were acting as extra hands on the wharf “-mentioned they saw the young Avatar in the forest earlier. If you head up that hill, you should reach where the girls train, and get a pretty good view of the surrounding forest. The girls might have even seen him more recently.” 

She thanks him profusely, for the boat, for the supplies, for actually listening to her and answering her questions. It was a low bar, but at least he’d had the decency to reach it. She thanks him for everything, and sets off to where Oyaji had told her she could find help in finding Zuko.

She spots him on the roof, skulking around. Seemingly unnoticed by the training warriors. The Kyoshi Warrior on watch looks to her and nods in acknowledgement, an invitation to approach. She tilts her head towards the roof and the warrior turns to look at Zuko, she shrugs at Katara noncommittally -  _ What’s he going to do? _ \- and returns to her post.  _ I guess I’m going to have to handle it myself. _

Katara sighs, runs towards the building and uses the water in her pouch to push herself off the ground and up onto the roof. It’s not the delicate maneuver that Ruk showed her, nor is it as smooth as she’s done in the past, the lack of water is starting to get on her nerves. She lands roughly on the roof, off-balance. She swings her arms to catch herself as she slides backwards and nearly falls off the roof.

A hand grabs her own and pulls her away from the edge towards safety. It’s a familiar gesture, Sokka would always pull her away from edges and make sure that she was alright whenever she slipped on the ice. But it wasn’t Sokka who had caught her. It was Zuko. And that made the gesture feel wrong. 

He lets go as soon as he is sure her footing is secure, and crouches back down in a squatted position that she can’t imagine is comfortable. There’s an unsteady silence between them. Neither of them wanted to address what’s on their minds. Zuko breaks the silence first. 

“That one’s your brother.” He points at one of the Kyoshi Warriors. They have Sokka’s signature wolf-tail. “He’s fighting Suki right now. Should be fun to watch.” He extends his arm towards her, offering help across the roof. 

She had every right to be angry with him, and to not trust him. And a deep part of her would always be resentful of him. She knew that, she felt it. That despite everything that he could to try and make things right, he wouldn’t be able to undo every injustice that had already happened. He wouldn’t be able to heal every wound, and even those that he could heal would leave scars that would never truly fade away. She would always carry the grief of losing her mother, like the South Pole would always hurt from having so many of its people fight in an endless war. Like how Sokka would always feel like he has to carry the weight of the Tribe on his own. You couldn’t erase that.

But you could try to move forward.

_ Worst case, Sokka and I can take him in a fight. _ She takes his extended arm and sits down beside him on the roof, peeking over the edge to look at Sokka train. Or more accurately look at Sokka getting beat up by the Kyoshi Warriors. Under ordinary circumstances Katara would have joined in the fight. On Sokka’s side. Maybe. But for now she chose to enjoy the show, silently cheering Sokka on, and laughing at him when he was tossed aside like a ragdoll. Autumn on the island was gentle, and wind didn’t bite and nip like it did in the South Pole. It was nice to lie down on a roof and laugh at her brother and forget about the war and her responsibilities and her worries for a few minutes.

She would tell Sokka what she knew later. They could decide what to do together. And if it came to it, she would make the difficult decisions herself.

***

“Not bad.” Suki smiles at his successful block, before pushing him back and tripping him over an exposed tree root. “Although you should pay more attention to your surroundings.” There’s a pair of people laughing as he lands on his back.

“Hey, I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t laugh at me anymore.” He looks at all the Kyoshi Warriors assembled but finds that none of them are laughing. He follows the sound of the laughter to the roof and sees Katara and Zuko quickly duck down out of sight when they realize that he was looking at them. 

All of Sokka’s revenge plot planning falls to a standstill as Oyaji appears over the hill, running and panting. Rin runs to the old man, meeting him halfway and helping him up as he pants trying to catch his breath. He whispers something in her ear and leans into her carry as she begins to walk him up the rest of the way. “Fire Nation soldiers have landed on our shores! They’re headed to the town. Girls, go quickly.” 

Another one of the Kyoshi Warriors runs up to Oyaji and helps Rin carry him the rest of the way to lay him down on the training room floor. Immediately the ones that were lounging around watching Sokka and Suki train spring into action, donning armor and arming themselves more quickly with a speed and discipline that Sokka wished the Southern home reserve troops had. 

The first wave of Warriors had already run off into the forest before Katara and Zuko could even slide off the roof. One of them tugged at Sokka’s sleeve to pull him along as another wave of warriors, this one armed with bows, shot up into the trees. “I’m not -” She pulls more insistently before running off as she spots a trail of smoke coming from the direction of the town. “Oh no…” Sokka takes off running behind her, face dropping as he spots the smoke trail too. 

He’s cut off by a thrown fan passing in front of him. It misses, and hits the tree to his side. He turns quickly to see who had thrown the fan and is surprised to see Suki standing there, holding Zuko by the back of his shirt, another fan already in her hands. Katara is holding up a stream of water ready to attack Suki.

“They’re after you three. Rushing off into battle is exactly what they want you to do. We have to be smart.” She lets Zuko go and he drops to the ground. “You need to leave.”

“We can’t, you guys need help.” Zuko jumps up from the dirt. “I’m not leaving you guys to fight the Fire Nation alone. Not again.” He tries to use his height to stare Suki down into giving in but she brushes it off.

“If they see you leave, they’ll leave. The girls and I will sneak you to the edge of the village and then create a distraction. Make sure they see you three leave.” 

Zuko stammers as he tries to insist on staying. He turns in surprise as Sokka puts a hand on his shoulder. “She’s right. It’s the best way to protect the townspeople. And that’s what we want to do, right?” Zuko nods in agreement, and Katara returns her attack water to the waterskin on her hip.

***

Rin motioned to Suki from the rooftop. She opened her fan and closed it a few times in quick succession.  _ Mounted attackers _ . Suki saw her jump from one rooftop to the next, her kimono billowing in the breeze. Two others followed her, silently landing on the roof. She saw two of their archers take their positions on trees on the other side of the square. They nocked arrows and pulled their bowstrings back. Suki rolled to the other side of the alley to get a better look. Holding up a hand to stop Katara, Sokka, and Zuko from following her. 

The firebenders came into view, they were riding komodo rhinos - aggressive but the girls could take them. They split off in small groups to search the town. She narrowed her eyes and waited. Somewhere on one of the rooftops Rin must have given the signal, as two arrows soared through the square and embedded themselves deep in the ground before the rhinos. The firebenders’ mounts reared up at the sudden appearance of arrows and even with her well-trained eyes, Suki couldn’t see when the Kyoshi Warrior archers jumped to a different tree. 

Three of her Warriors dropped down from the roofs, fans drawn, landing on one of the komodo rhinos. Both of the firebendersFire Nation soldiers move their spears to stab them, but Rin dodges one spear and knocks the other spear out of the soldier’s grasp with a well placed kick, before flipping off the rhino and onto the ground. Another warrior launches herself towards the still armed soldier and tackles him to the ground. Quickly rolling off and taking a defensive position with her now outstretched fan. 

The soldier still on a komodo rhino balls his hand into a fist and punches towards the Kyoshi Warrior still on his rhino. Fire erupts from his fist as the girl jumps up to avoid it and knocks the man down with a spinning kick, cutting the flame short. She lands gracefully in the saddle and kicks the komodo rhino into charging at the other group. Leaving her compatriots to deal with the two soldiers on the ground. 

“That’s your cue to leave.” Suki leads them through the alleyway and points them in the direction of the Statue of Kyoshi and the wharf where the  _ Ocean Glider _ had been prepped by several of the other villagers. 

Zuko runs out first, dodging out of the way of an errant fireblast, Katara follows close behind, going so far as to whip water at one of the unsuspecting soldiers still mounted. His helmet spun around blinding him long enough for one of the Kyoshi Warriors to knock him down. The warrior nods towards Katara in thanks and draws her fans up to her face to defend against an aggressive fireball that had been thrown her way.

Before Suki can run off to join the fight, Sokka tugs at her sleeve, drawing her back into a squatting position. “There’s no time to say goodbye.”

“How about I'm _ sorry? _ ”

“For what?” She whispers, surprised.

“I treated you like a girl when I should have treated you like a warrior.” 

“I am a warrior.” She draws and opens her fan. “But I’m a girl too.” She leans over and kisses Sokka on the cheek quickly before jumping up and drawing her other fan. She runs out drawing her other fan before yelling out loudly “Now get out of here! We’ll hold them off!” And points her fan out towards the dock in an exaggerated manner to draw the attention of the soldiers. All a part of their ruse. 

She dives as one of the soldiers sweeps out a kick laced with fire. Two others Kyoshi Warriors join her and they charge towards the brunt of the Fire Nation forces being led by a man in red-rimmed armor, using their fans to deflect all the incoming fireballs. Sokka stands in awe of their skill and formation, looking at the golden insignia sewed onto the uniform he was still wearing.  _ Bravery and Honor. _ He looks back at the Kyoshi Warriors fighting the Fire Nation soldiers one last time before running towards Katara and Zuko.  _ Loyalty and Heroism _ . 

One of the soldiers spots him and rushes towards him, fists smoking in preparation of fireball. Sokka sidesteps and knocks the man back. A water whip emerges from behind him, knocking the man further back into the fray. He turns to Katara who is fending off other incoming soldiers as Zuko ducks and weaves, dismissing the incoming fire blast.  _ They’re doing a pretty good job _ \-  _ considering Zuko isn’t actually firing anything back, and Katara lacks complete control of the water.  _

A jet of water pushes back one of the soldiers and knocks him into a wooden pole supporting one of the houses. He collapses in pain and Katara calls back the water to her, holding it aggressively as she uses it to deflect a fire blast.  _ Whatever she lacks in skill, she makes up for in sheer power and force of will _ . 

As they near the Statue of Kyoshi that stands at the wharf, Sokka can see the  _ Ocean Glider _ . They had even snuck Druk on board, along with all the supplies Katara had picked out. One of the fishermen had positioned himself on the mast of their ship and called out to the others when he spotted the trio running towards them. The sailors on board quickly got to work, prepping the ship for a very quick launch, untying it from the dock and letting loose the sails before jumping back on the dock.  _ We might actually make it. _

Zuko trips in front of the statue of Avatar Kyoshi, and Sokka sees their plan falling apart. 

Katara was too far ahead of them to notice, and she kept running, jumping onto the ship with a powerful push. Sokka had seen him fall, and quickly turns, drawing his fans to deflect any potential oncoming blasts. He knocks one then two to the side, although dropping the fans in the process. He pats his belt, hoping he’d stowed a third fan somewhere, although he knew he didn’t before dropping into a defensive stance. Off to the side, Sokka spots a red fox in one of the trees, observing the entire exchange and its many tails spread out behind it.

Before the soldiers can advance, air wraps around Zuko, loosening the tie on his hair and picking him up. Somehow he had gotten hold of Sokka’s fans. He thrust them to one side, air launching some of the soldiers against a tree, his hair billowing in front of his face in the wind. Zuko pushes his arms forwards quickly opening the fans. Powerful winds spill from the outstretched fans, knocking back the remaining Fire Nation soldiers. The wind launches Zuko back, crashing into Sokka and sends them flying, throwing them both against the mast of their ship. The Kyoshi Warriors drop to the ground and hold their stance, protecting their faces with their fans as the air reaches the town, putting out the various fires that had been lit. 

“Back to the ship! We can’t lose the airbender.” The soldier with red-rimmed armor calls out. He moves his rhino to charge back in the direction of their boat, picking up various of his comrades on his way, and ignoring the assembled Kyoshi Warriors who had taken a defensive stance protecting the people who had gathered in the non-smoking town hall. Sokka recognized the voice. It was the same as the one who had asked them to give up the airbender at the South Pole. 

The Fire Nation soldiers heed their orders immediately. They abandon attacking, and head back to their ship. Leaving as quickly as they had arrived. Like clockwork.

The three of them sigh in relief as they watch the firebenders withdraw from the village and give themselves a chance to breathe before moving to get the ship’s sails into proper position. Katara notices that there are more supplies than what she had requested, and kicks herself for not thinking to slip more coins into the baskets of people. She thanks them and asks the Spirits to bless them, to keep them safe, bring them a good harvest, an easy winter, anything that they needed. 

They leave the bay easily and unfollowed. Sokka was bold enough to label the entire venture a rousing success. Katara and Zuko seemed inclined to agree. Their celebrations are short lived. Zuko spots the smoke trail of the ship first, it’s rapidly gaining on them. And it shows no signs of stopping. They do everything they can think of to get their boat to move faster, but even at their top speed they can’t outrun a coal-powered ship. Not with only one waterbender. 

The three of them pale as they spot the fin of the Unagi peeking out from beneath the wavy depths in front of them, and the nearing Fire Nation vessel behind them. They wouldn’t be able to fight off either of them, and as skilled as they were no one was willing to chance a direct fight with either the Unagi or the ship. They had seen what the Unagi could do to the elephant koi. And they were more willing to face the Fire Nation after that. Their small window of escape was vanishing as they weighed their odds.

“Wait. I have an idea.” She grins, knowing exactly how to make sure that the Fire Nation ship couldn’t follow them.

***

Oyaji turned from looking at the retreating cutter ship as it dipped over the horizon, holding the Avatar and his friends, to the Fire Nation vessel in pursuit of them currently trying to fend off the Unagi. He looks back at his village, some of the wooden buildings still smoking slightly as several people, led by the Kyoshi Warriors, were smothering out the remaining fires and treating anyone who had been hurt in the attack. Several of the girls were using their fans to direct people who had lined up with food and clothing for those whose homes had just burned down. Suki wraps him in a blanket as she passes by. They would be alright.

He sits at the base of their statue, closing his eyes and reciting the prayers his fathers and grandfathers had taught him. He bows his head in respect as he finishes and stands to leave. Out of the corner of his eye he spots a red fox, white markings around its eyes sitting in the underbrush, staring at him. He smiles at it, and it shakes its tail, untwining it to reveal it actually had four. He stands perfectly still as it gets up and crosses the dirt path in front of the statue of Kyoshi. As it reaches the middle of the path it begins to run slowly lifting itself a few centimeters off the ground, its tails growing and flowing in the wind as it begins to glow. It dives into a bush on the other side of the path, disappearing. The bush does not move.

He turns his head to look up at the imposing statue of Kyoshi, their protector and former leader. Her face frozen in a gentle smile disguised by the fierceness and bold lines of her face paint and her arm outstretched in both a command and a blessing:  _ Go forward. _ He smiles fondly as he returns to face the horizon where the cutter had now disappeared. “Thank you for looking after us, Avatar.” A sudden breeze picks up from the direction of the town and carries his words out for the world to hear along with some of the falling autumn leaves.    



	13. Imprisoned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not one joke but two this time:
> 
> Sokka: Me, deal with feelings? What am I Gran-Gran?  
> Katara is actually concerned  
> Sokka: We're dealing with feelings.
> 
> Sokka to Katara and Zuko: Brain Cells? Have you heard of them?

They had ducked into a river and had been traveling upstream for some time now, the trees getting larger and taller than any either of them had ever seen before. According to Zuko, there were trees out there that dwarfed these, some reaching so high into the sky that ‘they crossed over into the Spirit World where phoenixes would use them as roosts.’ He had sounded excited by that idea even if Sokka still doubted the whole notion of the Spirits.

Sokka had been excited for a completely different reason, they had somehow found a good windstream, and using it they had made good time and lost the Fire Nation ship in the process. A rousing success on all accounts, if you ignored the fact that they had a Fire Nation noble on their boat. 

And while Sokka was hesitantly putting that fact aside - given the lack of double-crossing, burning, and every other stereotype that he’d come to expect given every single thing that he’d heard about the Fire Nation, and his one first-hand experience - it was enough to put Katara on edge. He couldn’t blame her. He only blamed himself for it taking him this long to truly grasp how tightly wound she was. He should have picked up on it earlier. But he had more pressing matters to deal with then - a fully equipped Fire Navy ship and a giant eel creature hellbound on eating you tended to take up most of your attention. Now it was pretty hard not to now, considering she was pacing so much she had nearly worn a hole through their deck. 

Normally she would have paced herself out by now, but her pacing was getting more fervent and she had subconsciously begin to push and pull up water from the bucket Sokka was using to scrub the deck with. She had only ever done that out of anxiety once before. He was getting worried.

“Alright. What’s bothering you?”

“There’s nothing bothering me.” She paces some more and twiddles her thumbs, debating whether she should share what was bothering her with Sokka. The blob of water suspended midair drops the second she notices it, splashing water on him. He swipes some of the water off of him and wrings his shirt out over the bucket keeping eye contact with her the entire time.  _ Sure. There’s absolutely nothing bothering you. Water just somehow magically ended up on my shirt. _

He could practically feel the heat coming from her thoughts in response to his accusation. It was enough to melt some of the more stubborn permafrost back home. She was debating whether it was something she should worry him with. Forgetting that the whole point of being her older brother was to worry about things. Hopefully solve some things too. He hedges a bet he knows he’ll win. 

He continued to scrub at the deck while waiting for Katara to talk. It had been days since their unceremonious tossing to shore and he was still finding grains of sand on his boat. They ought to give it a good coat of paint at some point soon, he always did it right before the winter ice settles in when there were more people around and he didn’t feel too guilty about spending so much time on the  _ Ocean Glider _ . He hadn’t gotten a chance to before being whisked away on this adventure. It was alright though, it wasn’t like he was going to use it for anything important this winter anyways. 

She doesn’t seem to be catching the signal, so he drops the subtlety.

He yawns, and stretches his arms up above him, arching his back and rolling his shoulders until he hears a nice crack. Getting up, he grabs the bucket and tosses the saltwater overboard. They’ll return to the ocean soon enough, and the wood is swollen enough that there wouldn’t be any leaks he’d have to worry about. He makes a show of stowing the bucket away, absentmindedly retying one of the knots. Stalling to give Katara time to organize her thoughts, before vaguely sauntering to the boat’s stern.

“Well if you’re  _ absolutely _ sure nothing’s bothering you,” he calls out behind him, arms crossed behind his head as he subtly looks back at her to check if she was paying attention. “I’m just going to work on the rudder, you know the one all the way over here, far away from the cabin door-” she suddenly sidles up really close to him ignoring all sense of personal space. 

“Okay something is bothering me.” 

And he’d won.

He was used to it, it was a ritual between the two of them. He would ask if something was bothering her. She would say no. He’d accept that and give her space. She would immediately end up talking to him whether he’d want her to or not. It was a system. It worked. It was something he could count on, like the sun setting in the west and the moon always being there, whether he could see it or not. It was predictable and he liked the predictability of it. It meant that he’d figured out what to do by now.

“I learned that Zuko has ties to the noble families of the Fire Nation. Probably the Fire Lord himself.”

“He told you?” 

“No, he didn’t tell me. I have my suspicions.” She stops her pacing as his words sink in and quickly turns to grab him by the shirt. “Wait, he  _ told _ you?”

“No, but I kind of figured, with the - well - everything.” He shrugs, and pries her hands off his shirt.

“Wait, you knew?” Her voice is small.

“You didn’t?” Katara glares at him.  _ When were you thinking of sharing this with me? _

He swallowed, picking words carefully. “I thought you already knew.”  _ You’re smart.  _ He doesn’t say that part out loud. His sister was smart. Years of living with her proved it. “He’s not doing a great job at hiding it. I mean: the gilded armor, his hairstyle when we found him, he keeps mentioning the Palace, knowing so much about the ships, General Roku, having ZERO survival skills, casually knowing how to sword fight.” He counts out all the reasons on his fingers. “Wait I’m forgetting one… Oh right, the fact that he has a dragon. A literal dragon. You know the symbol of the Fire Nation Royal Family. What their most decorated generals are called. He didn’t say it but… he basically said it. And you know how bad I am at addressing the elephant-seal in the room.”

Silence. 

It was the wrong thing to say. He never could say the right things around his sister. Time for Plan B.

“Gran-Gran suspected it too. After the Council Meeting.”

Katara looks away. “And that’s not even getting into like the small things, which you can l brush off as one-offs individually. But when you take them altogether…” He wiggles his hand to indicate not-so-much. “All things considered he was either Fire Nation royalty. OR the Avatar. Or maybe a Dragon spirit in human form as the universe’s attempt at pulling some cruel prank on me. I really hope he isn’t the third one.”

“I have sincere doubts that the universe would target you specifically.” She shoves him away softly, poking at his gut. 

“Hey, stranger things have happened.” She was making fun of him, that was good. It meant that she was not too entirely shocked out of her system. Things were normal, or as close to normal as it could get, all things considered. “But Gran-Gran said she’d tell me exactly what makes her Five Flavor soup better than everyone else’s if I end up being right on all three accounts, so if it does end up happening I’ll have that to look forward to.”

She hums slightly, indicating that she was vaguely listening to him before they shifted into an uneasy silence. He picks at one of the faded paint chips on the rudder. Last time he’d painted it Dad had been home.

“I’m worried.” She breaks the silence awkwardly and looks down at her feet, it’s not often that she lets herself be this vulnerable, even around him. He can’t remember the last time she’d admitted to being worried. They both  **were** constantly worried - it was hard not to be when you held so many responsibilities, and people depended on you, and people you cared about were halfway across the world fighting and it would take months for any news to come; but admitting meant that it was something big. Something serious. Admitting it meant you wanted help. 

He extends an arm out and they sink into an embrace. She doesn’t say any of her fears, but he knows. He always does. She doesn’t need to say it out loud for him to answer.

“Avatar or not, I think we can handle a royal brat.” He gives his sister a gentle squeeze. She laughs softly and returns the favor. “We’ll keep a close eye on him. With the best warrior of the South Pole on the job, there’s no way he’ll be able to do something without us knowing.” He lets go of her and returns to fiddling with the knot. “And also you’re here, so that has to count for something too, I guess.”

She shoves him. It’s the best shove he’s received in a while. 

***

Silence settles between Katara and Zuko as they pull the boat up against the shore. They’d gone upriver into Earth Kingdom territory to hide from the much larger Fire Nation ships that couldn’t follow them there. It was a risky move, especially since they didn’t know what territory had already been captured, but they couldn’t count on another appearance of the Unagi or an iceberg collision to use as cover for an escape. 

She had sent Sokka ahead into the woods, with the explicit orders to go out and find things to furnish their meal with, she wasn’t particularly picky about what he’d bring back, just that he’d bring something back. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and as self-proclaimed quartermaster Sokka wouldn’t have been able to deny her command anyways. Gripe and grumble, yes. But the day Sokka stopped calling her bossy is the day she would worry. 

Anchoring the boat itself was not a difficult task, she’d done it thousands of times with Sokka and others from the South Pole, on one occasion she had even gone out with her father and Gran-Gran. It was something she could do in her sleep. If she had a capable second pair of hands.

Zuko had enthusiastically offered himself up to help, so Sokka would be able to go foraging without worrying about the state of the boat. And when she had let her doubt show on her face, Sokka had assured her that his skills in working with the sail had vastly improved. Absolutely insisted that he was “passable”. He’d refused to comment any further than that.

She did not consider Zuko to be a pair of capable hands. She now doubted Sokka’s ability to determine whether someone was “passable” or not.

She didn’t know what Zuko’s skill level must have been when he’d started then, since she was absolutely certain that most (if not all) of the five-year olds back at the Pole would have been more useful than Zuko. Even with all the potty breaks they would at least know better than to get the ropes tangled, and then get themselves tangled in the ropes trying to untangle them, and somehow end up trapped and tearing their only good net. 

After disentangling him from the net - which again she couldn’t even begin to understand how exactly one could get themselves so entangled in the first place - a task which, to Sokka’s despair when he found out, eventually involved a knife, she had tasked him with gathering the supplies for cooking on the shore. Anything that would get him away from the ropes and the net, but still kept him close enough where she could keep an eye on him. Clumsy and inept or not, he was still a Fire Prince, and that meant that it was her Spirit-given duty to make sure he would never get the chance to hurt anybody.

But as the sun rose to its midday heights and she could no longer find menial tasks she could strongarm Zuko into doing, she began to regret sending Sokka off alone. Already he’d gathered wood, set up a campfire, and put on the pot and begun to prepare a simple meal. There was only so much that they could do while waiting for Sokka to return. She didn’t trust herself to be able to hold a civil conversation with him, or hold any conversation at all.

To his credit, he seemed to get the message that she didn’t want to talk with him and kept his distance, tossing a rock for Druk to play with, and occasionally poking at the fire to keep it at the same intensity. She glares at him every time so much as a puff of fire leaves his hands.

She resigned herself to spending most of the morning awkwardly glaring at Zuko, never letting herself look away, even for a moment. Sokka had agreed with her that they had to remain constantly vigilant, she hadn’t realized how tiring that could be. She yawns, stretching out her arms behind her. The odd hours had begun to take a toll on her. She blinks back the sleepiness, determined to hold out until Sokka arrives at the very least.

He blessedly comes back from foraging, and his arms are... disappointingly empty. Sokka’s back, and that’s what matters.

“So, what’s for dinner?” Zuko looks at the small bag hoping that maybe it was just a trick of the light that made it look so small and empty. 

“We’ve got a few options.” Sokka sticks his hand into the pouch and digs out a palmful of nuts. “First, we’ve got some round nuts.” He holds one up and throws it to Katara. “And then some kind of oval shaped nuts?” He throws one at Zuko. “And some rock-shaped nuts.” He puts one in his mouth and bites down on it. It doesn’t crack. “Although those might just be rocks.” He rubs his jaw.

“No, seriously… What else you got?” He holds up his empty hands and smiles, hoping to deflect her disappointment. Sighing, she grabs the pouch from him and turns it over in her hand. More nuts. Disappointing nuts. She sighs as she picks out the ones that were actually rocks and chucks them aside. Druk runs off after one. She empties her palm into the pot of stew she was cooking. “I was hoping we’d be able to find some stuff here so we didn’t go through our stores while on shore.”

“Sorry, none of the berries looked familiar, or like any of the ones in the book Gran-Gran gave us, so I thought it was better not to risk it.” Druk drops a much larger rock at Katara’s feet, and nudges it with his snout towards her.

“That’s fair. I really don’t want to deal with food poisoning on a boat. But I hope the two of you will be happy with the dried fish jerky for lunch  _ and _ dinner again.” She picks the rock up and throws it out for him again. Whatever her feelings were for the Fire Nation and Zuko, and Zuko’s relationship to the Fire Nation, Druk was innocent in all of this, and their shared long nights leading the boat had fostered friendship between them. She too was guilty of sneaking Druk some extra fish when no one was looking.

“Yum…” Zuko tries to feign excitement, but only earns an eerily similar ‘ _ really? _ ’ look from the two siblings. “Sorry, I’m trying.” 

She glares at him.  _ Try Harder _ . “Tell that to our net.”

“What happened to  _ my _ net?”

“Nothing.”  “Zuko.” 

They both replied to Sokka at the same time. She threw Zuko a dirty look, daring him to contradict her again.

“I am going to ask again. What happened to my net?”

Katara holds out a hand, inviting Zuko to explain what happened. He looks at her and shakes his head, refusing to speak. She repeats the gesture, more forceful this time, with a strained smile and a dangerous look in her eye, which clearly communicated that it would be very much worse for everyone if she had to explain what happened.

Zuko takes in a deep breath. “I tripped and fell into it.” Katara insists he continues. “Then somehow I managed to roll on the deck and get even more entangled.” He gently starts to turn away, suddenly interested in the intricacies of the crud that had plastered itself on Sokka’s boots. He waits a second before continuing, hunching down and retreating further into his shoulders like a scared turtleduck. “And then I got it snagged on one of the posts that we keep the ropes tied to when I tried to get up.” He holds up a single finger, the piece de resistance. “Somehow I ended up suspended by one of the ropes that is used to secure the sail.”

“How- I don’t even want to know how.” Sokka sighs, and rubs his hands across his face, covering his eyes as he very carefully keeps his voice as smooth and put together and stable as he could possibly muster. “But what about the net.” Zuko opens his mouth and then closes it again, thinking very carefully about his words. “Well?”

“Katara had to cut me free.” He admits dejectedly, shying away from Sokka. 

Something in him dies, and its dying breath gets caught in Sokka’s throat. “That’s our good net,” he whines, mourning the net yet again.

“I know.”

“I spent days fixing it after  _ your _ dragon used it as a chew toy.  _ Days _ .”

“I’m sorry.”

“Should I even bother trying to fix it again? At this rate someone’s going to break it again within the week.” He holds up the remains of the net up to examine the damage. He was thankful that Katara had been kind enough and thought to cut it along a seam that would at least be a relatively easy fix, but at this point the net was more fixes than original net. “Do you even know how difficult it is to find a good net?”

She shouldn’t find this entertaining, Sokka loved that net almost as much as he loved the  _ Ocean Glider _ ; and he loved the  _ Ocean Glider _ only a little less than he loved his boomerang. But there was something so vindictive and calming about seeing Sokka angrily lecture what could have been another Dragon of the West on proper net maintenance. And funnily enough, Zuko was listening. 

She could trust her brother to keep an eye on Zuko, enough that she would be able to relax enough to eat her… soggy rice porridge. She lets it fall from her spoon back into the bowl, and it settles on top of the rest of the goop. She pokes the sludge with her spoon as the boys argue about nets in the background, it gets stuck.

She beckons Druk over and offers him the bowl, he sniffs it tentatively before scrunching up his nose in disgust, throwing his head back away from the monstrosity she had created. “Yeah I didn’t think so either,” she mumbles to herself as she tries to scrape the goop out of the bowl. It’s times like these she wishes she’d paid more attention to when Gran-Gran had been cooking. 

It doesn’t come out. She abandons it in favor of throwing a rock for Druk, he seems to enjoy that. And she owes him that much after trying to pawn off the porridge on to him. He chases after it, barrelling through the boys in his haste and brings it back, dropping it at Katara’s feet. He thumps his tail loudly against the ground in excitement as she picks up the rock again, and on one of those thumps, the ground shakes around them, knocking Katara off of her makeshift sleeping bag chair.

“What was that?” 

“I didn’t know Druk could do that.” Sokka turns to Zuko questioningly.

“Neither did I.” He tilts his head to match Druk’s confused expression. “Did you know?” He asks the dragon.

Druk shakes his head, but nevertheless believing he may have caused the quake, cautiously picks up the rock again, and drops it. The rock splinters upon contact with the ground, but the ground does not shake. He noses the pebbles curiously, blowing out small tendrils of smoke through his nostrils and dragging his whiskers in the dirt. He lets out a strong snort, flinging one of the pebbles away. 

It smacks a tree, loosening some of the dead leaves and falls to the ground.

The earth shakes again, and he lets out a small undignified shriek, immediately attempting to jump into the arms of an unexpecting Zuko, forgetting that he was no longer small enough to be safely cradled in his arms, and only succeeding in knocking them both down to the ground in a tangle of scales and limbs and a now very dusty firebender.

The ground quakes again, more gently this time, like the source is further away.

“It’s coming from over there!” Zuko sits up suddenly and points east, wriggling out from underneath his scared dragon. Katara immediately takes off in that direction, with Zuko trailing close behind after giving up any of his attempts to dust himself off, and Druk taking off a few seconds later in close pursuit.

“Shouldn’t we be running  _ away _ from huge booms? Not towards them?” They didn’t hear Sokka, they’d already taken off running  _ towards _ the huge boom. Disregarding every logical thought in their heads. Assuming they had logical thoughts. 

They’d left the campfire burning. Assuming they had any thoughts at all. Sokka kicks dirt over the fire to put it out and sighs, before jogging after them. Someone had to keep them out of trouble. 

He finds them hidden behind a fallen tree, Druk and Zuko tensed all too much like a leopard caribou about to pounce on their prey. No, their eyes lacked the killer instinct, more like an arctic deer lemmings ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. 

They at least had the decency to try and not draw attention to themselves. Katara was a different matter altogether. She practically draped herself over the tree and was staring at something below them in the ravine. He moves to pull her down beside him, grabbing by the back of her dress. She swats his hand away, keeping her eyes trained on the ground below them.

_ I should have let her go on one of the hunts. Then she might have realized what stealth means _ .

He tries again, she grabs his chin - he stops trying to grab her in surprise - and pulls him down to look at the figure too. He relents, and settles in beside her to look at whatever had captured her attention so badly. A figure was down there, clad in green, with hair tied back with a ribbon working through a variety of stretches.

Suddenly, the boy kicks at the ground and a small boulder leaps out of the ground, it hangs suspended in the air for a few seconds before the boy punches it and upon impact launches it to the other side of the small ravine he was in. He repeats this several times, working through a few different earthbending sets, not noticing that he was being watched.

The whole process was very firm and rigid. Lacking the fluid motions that he had seen Katara and Ruk practice with waterbending, and the fancy footwork that the few firebenders he had seen used. And while Katara was by no means exceedingly graceful by any standards, this kind of bending was as far from graceful as you could get. He vaguely recognized some of the movements, from when Ruk had to fix the ice bridge he’d accidentally collapsed, or a few of the advanced moves Rin had been demonstrating for the other Kyoshi Warriors. Solid, but something that would hardly catch a trained waterbender’s eye.

“An earthbender!” He could practically see his sister’s face absolutely light up at the prospect of meeting an earthbender as she clasped her hands in excitement. The stories that Gran-Gran, Kikaro, and all the other veterans seemed to have gotten to her head. And if he knew his sister, it was taking all of her willpower at the moment to not go bounding down to introduce herself.

“Should we go meet him?” 

“He looks dangerous.” He takes his eyes off of her for just a moment to address Zuko. “We better approach cautiously, not try to draw attention to our- where’s Katara?” He took his eyes off of her for too long. He looks around, desperately searching around them, and hoping that she had enough sense to move away from the potential danger.

“Hello there! I’m Katara!” His sister’s voice immediately catches his attention, and Sokka whips his head around and spots Katara sliding down the side of the ravine, much too quickly than he was comfortable with. She hadn’t even bothered to wait to listen to him, as usual. And Gran-Gran called him impulsive.

“That’s my brother and our travelling partner.” She gestures back towards the fallen tree they were hiding behind.

Sokka smacks his forehead in frustration, letting his head fall back as he and Zuko pop up from behind the tree, abandoning any semblance of stealth. Zuko raises an arm in greeting and smiles, before glancing over at Sokka and nudging him gently to join in. 

Sokka glares at him, and he quickly retracts his offending hand, rubbing the back of his head nervously and continuing to wave, while refusing to look at him. Sokka rolls his eyes and puts up a hand in greeting before crossing his arms and leaning against the trunk. 

“What’s your name?” Katara suddenly extends her arm out in greeting, and the guy jerks back at the sudden movement. The boulder he had been suspending in the air up until now drops to the ground, creating a small dust cloud around him. 

Sokka immediately runs towards them, sliding down the side of the ravine, dragging his club against the rock to steady himself, before launching himself between Katara and the stranger. He holds up his club, preparing for a fight.

The earthbender pointedly ignores him, choosing to instead bolting past them both, through the dust cloud and towards the thin entrance of the ravine. As he reaches the end of the ravine he throws his hands behind him, a block of earth erupts below his feet launching him upwards as he brings down an avalanche of boulders with his bending. Rocks tumble down the edge of the ravine, blocking the small footpath he had taken, and throwing up more dust into the air around them.

As soon as the dirt settles, Sokka drops his guard and walks over to Katara, making sure that she was what could be considered well. Other than violently coughing, she seemed unhurt. “Well that was a dumb idea.”

“I just wanted to say ‘Hi’ Sokka. It’s not often you meet another bender.” She shrugs him off half heartedly as she coughs, trying to dislodge some of the dust that she had accidentally breathed in. Sokka hovers in closely, torn between giving her a good whack on the back to help her cough, lecturing her, and examining the bent rocks. As if detecting his hesitation, she holds up a hand, indicating that she was okay. “You can lecture me later.”

“That guy’s got to be running somewhere.” Zuko suddenly appears next to them. At least he had heeded Sokka’s warning of not approaching the potentially dangerous earthbender. Although despite having not been within the dust cloud, still managed to have the most dirt rubbed onto him. He strokes his chin thoughtfully, before finding his hand caked in mud. He wipes his hand on his pants and tries to rub the dirt out of his face. “Maybe we’re near a village.”

Katara immediately pops up between them, forcing Sokka to abandon his examination of the bent rocks. “And a village means a market. Which means no solid porridge and nuts for dinner!” She quickly clambers over to the rockalanche and struggles to climb over one of the larger ones at the foot of the collapsed pass. 

“I worked hard for those nuts.” Pulling out the pouch, he pops one into his mouth and chews on it before spitting it out. “No that’s a rock. I think I just found rocks. I can’t even tell a nut from a rock.” 

“I know you did Sokka. And we very much appreciate it, but-” she tries throwing herself up onto the rock again, succeeding in getting most of her body up before her foot slips, and she falls back to the ground with a gruff puff. “A little help here?”

Sokka drags his feet, but lets his sister use him as a stepping stool to climb up the boulders. He swats her foot away when it gets dangerously close to hitting his head, but she does manage to get up the boulder with minimal falling this time. She jumps onto the next boulder sending down a small shower of pebbles and loose gravel.

“Hey watch it!” Sokka throws up his hands to protect himself from the oncoming onslaught, and turns over to Zuko- “So are you gonna need help or” - only to find him halfway up the boulders already, jumping between them with a practiced ease he was definitely not envious of. “Of course you don’t.” 

He sizes up the terrain before him, he’d climbed up ice walls before, this should be a piece of cake, no risk of frostbite involved. Passing the first boulder comes more easily to him than it did to Katara, his height giving a much needed advantage. The rest of the climb was a different matter altogether. About halfway up, another small shower of pebbles falls, thankfully to his side. He looks up to see Zuko already at the top of the ravine. Of course he’d be a spirits-damned ninja in addition to everything else. 

He was extending an arm out to help Katara up. She knocks his hand away and insists on pulling herself up without his help. Sokka can hear her stomping off as Zuko hangs about the ledge a little longer, awkwardly shrugging at Sokka before disappearing and - Sokka can only assume - going after Katara. He was very quiet, he could barely hear his tread on the cracking leaves on the ground. 

A noise below him grabs his attention and he glances down and notices Druk looking up at him, before launching himself up into the air and hovering up beside him, Zuko and Katara had long since disappeared into the brush ahead of him. He pulls himself up, and lies down on the ground, arms splayed out; lets himself catch his breath for a moment. His arms hurt, it had been a while since he had to climb up a vertical ice wall. He lets his eyes rest for a moment and considers the pros and cons of just staying here and lying in the forest, ignoring all of his responsibilities. It’s a nice thought that lives in his brain for all of three seconds. The amount of time it took Druk to land beside him.

“No you can’t come with us.” He doesn’t bother getting up. “A dragon isn’t exactly something that can blend in. Don’t make that face at me.” He sits up. “Guard the boat. I’ll tell you where Zuko hides all the seal jerky he doesn’t eat if you go back to the boat.” That got the dragon’s attention and he quickly clambered back in the direction of the  _ Ocean Glider, _ eager to get told where the treasure was being kept. Sokka could tell they would later find him coiled around the mast.

He lets himself fall back down to the ground, counts to three and entertains the thought of joining a pirate crew. That’s not a viable option. Too many people were counting on him. He gets up and walks forward for a bit, checking behind him to make sure Druk didn’t follow them before running off after his sister and their friend - was he their friend? Katara had called him their “travelling companion” but that didn’t really label it right. His sister and the Avatar.

Neither of them had thought about the very real consequences that following some random guy they had found could bring. So of course it was up to him to be the sensible and responsible one. He sighs in frustration. This he had expected from Katara, years of having to chase her impulsiveness across the snow had taught him that. But he had hoped that a prince of the Fire Nation had more sense than this. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko v. Broom. Who would win?
> 
> Haru: Can I fight?  
> His mother: No  
> Haru: Please.  
> His mother: may -no.  
> Haru: But-  
> His mother: Don't make me use this broom.

He cracks open the door, just enough to let himself slip into the shop. He checks over the shop and finds, to his great delight that his mother isn’t there. If he plays his cards right, he can maybe pretend that he hadn’t snuck off. He unties his hair and sticks the old ribbon in his pocket as he grabs the broom leaning against the door and begins sweeping the floor. He’s collected a small pile of dust when somebody clears their throat behind him. He stops mid sweep.

“Hi, Mom.” He hunches his shoulders and turns around to meet her, tilting his head and putting on his most charming smile.

“Where have you been, Haru?” A voice calls out in the empty store. “You’re late, I was worried,” his mother peeks out from behind the counter, lifting up a box onto the table. He tilts his head and throws his hair back again in response. “Well if you have the energy to sneak off and not tell me about it, then you have enough energy to do your chores.” She waves vaguely at the rest of the shop, and returns to sorting through the various things in her box. He chuckles in response and starts whistling an old tune as he returns to sweeping, a time-honored tradition between them. She stops her fiddling for a moment, and smiles, letting herself listen to the old lullaby she had taught him so long ago.

She returns to her work, beginning to fill some small bags with rice, gently humming along to her son’s whistling. It was not often moments of peace were found, and it seemed a pity to waste it worrying. She kept humming along to Haru’s whistling until he stopped suddenly as the door opened and three teenagers she had never seen before walked in. The peaceful moment fled in the presence of strangers, and the ease that had settled in the air sunk back down through the cracks in the floorboard, dreading potential trouble.

A pair of them vaguely wander in her direction, perusing some of the few food items that they still managed to keep in stock despite the local Fire Nation garrison’s constant requisitioning of supplies. The third loitered near the door, unsure if he was a welcome part of the duo, and unwilling to make a wrong assumption.

“Wait, you look familiar.” The girl wags her finger in Haru’s general direction suddenly, startling him. She mulls over her thoughts for a moment and snaps her fingers as she realizes why he looked so familiar. “You’re that kid we saw in the woods.” His mother looks up from the bags she was weighing. “Why did you run away before?”

“Uh,” he hesitates for a minute, glancing back at his mother who was now staring at the three newcomers that had entered the shop. He noticed her hand hovering underneath the counter. “You must have me confused with some other kid. It’s a common hair style around here.” He awkwardly holds up the broom, gripping it so tight and digging his nails into his palm. “Now if you’ll excuse me, unless you’re going to buy something, I have chores I need to get back to.” He swallows and turns away from Katara, focusing intently on sweeping the same small square of floor again and again.

“I could have sworn you were the one. Nevermind then,” she shrugs and begins to 

“No you’re right. He was the one earthbending. Put down his hair is all,” the one that had lingered in the background spoke up.

Haru’s mother drops the sack she was filling. Grains of rice spill across the coal dust he hadn’t yet cleaned on the floor, as she gasps in horror. She promptly slams the doors shut, only taking long enough to place a small “Closed” sign on the door before going to the window. She pops her head out and throws a quick glance to either side, before shutting it with enough strength that a small dust cloud blows up around the newly closed window. 

“They saw you doing what?!” She hisses between gritted teeth as she closes the blinds on the window. She takes 

“They’re crazy, Mom! I mean, look at how they’re dressed.”

Katara looks down at her dress and picks off the single blade of grass that had attached itself to her skirt, straightening it out. She looks over at her brother who is smoothing out his sleeve.  _ Rude. We look pretty okay. Put together at least. Best we could do given the circumstances.  _ Sokka wasn’t even wearing the shirt with a poorly fixed hole in it. And while Katara would certainly critique the usual blue, gray, and black monstrosity that Zuko would fashion for himself these days, today - due to Sokka’s consistent insistence on putting off laundry - he was wearing the clothing that they had gotten from Kyoshi Island. A respectable ensemble that would hide his Fire Nation origins if one didn’t look too hard. And while she thought that the straw hat was a bit much, it was important to shade his burn, so she tolerated it. He’d look alright if he hadn’t been covered head to toe with dust courtesy of one Druk’s panic.

His mother glances down at them half-heartedly, putting very little faith in what he had just claimed. She barely registers their blue clothing, focusing more on the bandage covering half of Zuko’s face. Staring at it until he awkwardly turns his head down and away, letting the brim of his hat cover him entirely. She turns back to Haru.

“You  _ know _ how dangerous  _ that-” _ she gestures vaguely with her hand to the ground and steps closer to her son, putting herself between Haru and the others. “Is. You know exactly what would happen if  _ they _ caught you...” she hesitates glancing around the store room, her eyes settling on Zuko. “ _ Earthbending.” _ She whispers the last word so softly Zuko barely catches what she says, and only understands because she mouths it more than whispers it.

“They would do what?” Sokka steps closer, arms stretched out holding his sister and Zuko back behind him.

“They would-” a heavy knock on the door interrupts her. She and Sokka both train their eyes on the door.

More knocking, heavier and more forceful this time. “Open up!” A muffled voice speaks from the other side of the door. 

Sokka springs into action, sneaking towards the window and peeking at the outside through the window’s blinds. “Fire Nation! Act natural!” he whispers out to the entire group. Everyone moves quickly, taking positions, as Haru’s mother opens the door.

The Fire Nation tax collector looks at the scene before him confused. Zuko was kneeling on the floor picking up the individual grains of rice that had been dropped, keeping his face away from the man. Haru had stopped talking about the merits of an apple that he was trying to sell to Katara who was so enraptured in his explanation that he might as well have been talking literally anything else.

Sokka has his hand on top of a barrel of apples, beaming an immense toothy smile at Haru and Katara. His smile is short-lived as the barrel’s lid spins under the weight of Sokka’s hand, plunging Sokka’s entire arm into the water and causing him to lose balance, and land face first into the small pile of rice Zuko had accumulated. 

Haru and Katara drop their acts and begin laughing at Sokka, their laughter cut short when they see the sour stare the armored Fire Nation man was giving them. Silence falls quickly on the shop as Haru’s mother boldly steps in between the children and the tax collector. “What do you want?” Her eyes narrow as she gathers up all of her height to look down at the man. “I’ve already paid you this week.” Haru recognizes the tone his mother uses to disguise her rage.

The tax collector chuckles at her words. “You see, the tax just  _ doubled _ .” He feigns an apologetic smile as he shrugs. “Commander sent me out here to collect. And we wouldn’t want an accident, would we?” He holds his hand against one of the summons a small ball of orange fire in his hand. The flames dance dangerously near one of the wooden support beams of the store. “Fire can be so hard to control sometimes.” He lets the flames lick the wood and tendrils of smoke begin to peel off from the wood.

The flame dies.

The tax collector starts the flame again, and flickers to life for a moment before extinguishing itself again. A small movement out of the corner of his eyes catches Haru’s attention and he swears he sees the boy in the hat clench his fist as the tax collector tries to start the fire again and fails. 

The tax collector casts a quick glance at the four of them, keeping his eyes trained on them as he takes in a deep breath and a fireball, hotter and larger than his previous attempts forms in his palm. He moves to press his palm against the closest support beam when Haru’s mother’s voice stops him.

“I’ll pay.” The tax collector smiles relaxedly, pleased that his threat worked - despite the technical difficulties the fire had been giving him - and moves his hand away from the wood, keeping the fire lit in his palm. Haru looked back at Zuko, his hand was no longer clenched at his side, instead it was pulling up his scarf to hide more of his face.

His mother walks behind the counter slowly, the shift in her posture would have been imperceptible to those that did not know her well. Her hands hesitate over the box behind the counter. Haru knows she hides an old kitchen knife there, and he sees the many calculations she’s running through her head, determining if it was worth the chance. Her eyes catch his gaze and she stops entirely, her eyes taking in her son.  _ We could fight _ . He tries to will her into action, like how she used to be when father was still here. Before they took him. He knows she can fight. He knows he can fight. The other three seem like they would fight on their side. He almost convinces her.

The tax collector clears his throat and their silent conversation abruptly ends. 

“I’m waiting.” He makes the fire in his palm travel between his fingers, flipping it like a flaming coin. 

The decision has been made and Haru’s mother opens the small chest and passes a meager handful of Earth Kingdom coins to the man.

He hums as he counts them out in his head, letting the small flame in his hand fizzle out. A handful of coins that was everything that they had. He picks out a few of the coins and holds them out. “You can keep the copper ones.” The man drops them before his mother can outstretch her hand, and turns and leaves. “Try to have more next time we come around or we might not be so  _ nice _ .” He looks at Haru cooly as he pockets the coins.

Haru meets his gaze with seething anger, enough of a glimpse to see how close it was to boiling over. “How old is your boy? The miners could certainly use some help.”

“Young enough.” She pulls Haru behind her and stands firmly between them before he could do anything that could get him hurt. 

“And what of the other two?” He gestures towards Sokka and Zuko. “They’re new aren’t they?”

She shakes her head firmly, planting herself more solidly than before. “You have your money. Now go.” The man frowns and is halfway through spitting out another threat, when Haru’s mother straightens her back, abandoning the farce of meekness and weakness as she towers over him. “Like I said before, you have your money. You can go. If you stay, you’ll affect business, which means no more  _ tax money _ for you.” 

The tax collector cowers before the sudden disappearance of an easy target, before quickly collecting himself with a loud harrumph. He leaves. Haru’s mother looming in the doorway until he disappears from sight. Sokka slams the door behind him. “Good riddance.” She sighs as she kneels down to pick up the discarded copper coins only to have them handed to her by Sokka.

“Nice guy.” He helps her back up. “How long has the Fire Nation been here?”

“Five years.” She moves to take his hand, before realizing that it was not Haru who had offered to help her up, and resigns herself to stand up by herself. “Fire Lord Ozai uses our town’s coal mines to fuel his ships.” The fierceness leaves her voice and the tiredness from before settles back in its place.

“They’re thugs. They steal from us. And everyone here’s too much of a coward to do anything about it.”

“Haru!” She admonishes him quickly, stopping him before he could say any more treasonous statements that could get him carted away, no questions asked, never to be seen again. “Quiet! Don’t talk like that.”

“But Haru’s an earthbender. He can do something about that. People who can bend have power. That’s how it works. At least that’s what I was taught.” He looks down at his outstretched palms before clenching them into fists and putting them behind his back. He was quoting something from a long-forgotten language, and his intent and meaning had gotten lost in translation, the looks of confusion on Haru and his mother’s faces told him that much. “An earthbender would certainly be able to stand up to that half-forged tax collector.”

“Hush now. I don’t have any idea how you got that idea in your head! And clearly, you don’t understand the situation here.” She sizes Zuko up, meeting his uncovered eye. She stops when she realizes the color and shape of Zuko’s unbandaged eye. She quickly takes the broom from Haru, pushing him behind her and brandishes the broom like a weapon for a second, a dangerous thought crossing her mind. She decides against it and instead shoos Zuko to the door, sweeping at his feet.

“Ever since the Fire Nation arrived, earthbending has caused nothing but misery for this village!” She punctuates each of her words with a rough sweep of the broom towards Zuko’s feet. He’s left jumping and dodging with each swipe of the broom, pushed closer towards the door each time. “He must never use his abilities. It’ll only cause more pain.”

With a push too quick for Zuko to dodge, she manages to knock him down. As he lies sprawled on his back she looms ominously above him, eyes steeled and broom poised to swing down hard. She hesitates and wavers for a moment, abandoning her stance and leaning it against the wall. 

“How can you say that? Haru has a gift! Asking him not to earthbend is like asking me not to waterbend. It’s part of who we are.” Sokka holds out an arm in an attempt to contain the unfettered power and rage that was his sister’s misdirected frustration at the Fire Nation.

“You don’t understand.”

Katara shrugs off her brother’s hand and steps forward and faces the tall woman, staring straight up at her to meet her eyes. “I  _ understand _ that Haru can help you fight back. What can the Fire Nation do to you that they haven’t done already?”

“They could take Haru away!” Katara steps back, unprepared for the sudden outburst. Haru’s mother takes a deep breath and clutches her chest, turning her head away from the children and refusing to look at them. “Like they took his father.” Her voice wavers and she no longer bothers to mask the hurt and heartache she harbors. Haru steps closer to her and holds her close.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t-” She cuts her off.

“Fighting back is a luxury not all of us can afford. You learn that the hard way.” She cups her son’s chin and presses their foreheads together. “Sometimes all that we can do in the face of impossible odds is survive. And keep hope that there will be better days ahead. We just need to live long enough to see them.”

“Mom. They shouldn’t be out after sundown.” He states the fact, the heaviness of what he’s asking weighing heavily between the two of them. He doesn’t need to tell her what dangers come out at night, why they would need a place to stay in the first place. She knows. And still she hesitates.

She stews for a few minutes, looks them over her gaze softening as she realizes how young they are. How full of fight and of hope. She cedes. “Fine. You can stay in the barn for the night.” She holds up a single finger. “But  _ only _ the  _ one _ night. I won’t risk my son’s safety any more than that.”

Zuko bows to Haru’s mother, Katara following suit and pulling Sokka’s sleeve down so that he joins them. “Thank you for your hospitality and generosity. We won’t soon forget it.”

***

They wait a good while to make sure the tax collector is truly and surely gone, and that no other Fire Nation interloper decides to pay the shop a visit. It’s fairly quiet, and the fallen rice was collected, washed, and set out to dry in the sun by the time that Sokka and Haru’s mother had declared it safe to wander around the shop rather than be confined inside. After being pestered by Haru constantly. It was only after Katara had gently asked why he was so anxious to be allowed back outside that he had revealed that he had abandoned a few packages he was supposed to have brought back from his errands when he bolted at their sudden appearance.

After tossing a quick glance over to his mother to ensure her permission, he heads out to the main door, Katara trailing after him like a lovesick puppy - even if she refused to admit it. Unwilling to leave his sister alone, given her impulsive tendency to jump into things, he moves to follow them. As he almost exits the door, a figure looms behind them. Haru’s mother suddenly grabs the back of Sokka’s shirt and pulls them back into the shop. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Out to make sure my sister doesn’t do anything stupid.” Sokka points his thumb back out at Katara and Haru who had disappeared into the trees in the general direction where they had first found him. “Hey,” Sokka yelps as Haru’s mother drops a large crate of various merchandise into his arms.

“Oh no you don’t. Haru will be able to take care of them both. You two are on stocking duty. I can’t reach the high shelves and it’s the least you can do to pay us back for risking the ire of the Fire Nation.” She drops another crate into Zuko’s hands and he jerks downwards at the unexpected weight. 

Sokka tosses a glance over to him, asking him if he really wanted to be stuck with stocking duty while Katara was off gallivanting who knows where to do who knows what.. “Honestly not sleeping in a hammock would be a nice change of pace. And hay’s better than the ground. Plus it’s not like we have much of a choice.” He shrugs, and begins attempting to clean out the dusty shelves with a rag that she had handed him, ignoring Sokka’s face of utter betrayal.

Sokka joins him with a sigh, taking the rag from him. “You want to make circles, otherwise you’re just moving the dust around,” he demonstrates, and flings the rag out to let out the coal dust he had collected. Zuko lets out a sneeze. “See, this is why you have to clean things out right.” 

She drops a bucket of water at their feet, an action so practiced, not a single drop of water spills from the bucket. “If you two can handle the shelves and washing the floors, I’ll get started on dinner. Wasn’t expecting to feed so many people, so it’ll take longer than usual.” She sighs. Her voice is gruff and she’s constantly fighting back a cough, clearing her throat. “Don’t know how much good it’ll do, fighting the coal dust is like fighting the Fire Nation. A losing battle.” She mumbles more to herself than addressing them, as she unties her apron and hangs it. 

“After that lovely visit from the tax collector, we’re not likely to get any more customers. But if there are any, I’ll be in the back.” She casts one long distrustful look at Zuko and disappears into the back room, the sound of pots and pans clanging together as she grabs a few and takes them outside to start cooking.

As soon as he thinks they’re safe and that she wouldn’t suddenly reappear, Sokka leans into Zuko’s side. “Man that woman is scary. And ridiculously strong. She lifted those crates like they were nothing. Are we sure  _ she’s _ not an earthbender?” That earns him a small snort. He takes it as a signal to keep talking.

“Worried about Druk?” He asks nonchalantly, trying to ease Zuko into as much of an aura of security as he could muster when they were in an occupied Earth Kingdom village, about to reveal that he and Katara knew that they knew, while whispering because he was absolutely sure that the very scary lady who had very graciously offered to feed them would likely refuse to feed them - at the very least - if she found out that she was housing potentially one of the highest ranking people of the Fire Nation. It was harder than it seemed.

“Not really. He’s tougher than he acts, and pretty scary when he wants to be and remembers that he’s - you know.” He shrugs non-committedly, not wanting to specify that Druk was a fire-breathing dragon.

“Yeah reminds me a bit of you.” No response. “Tougher than he looks or acts, despite having no survival skills. But what do you expect from a Fire Nation Royal.” He drops the dirty rag into the bucket of water and stretches his arms back as he watches it sink in the water, the ashes turning it murky. He waits a second before continuing. “Don’t think that particular thing means that I’m letting you off the hook for ruining my net.” He settles into sitting with his legs crossed, waiting for a response, any acknowledgement of what he had just said. 

It takes a few minutes for Zuko to realize that Sokka was waiting for him to say something. “Sorry did you say something? Everything is kind of muffled from that side,” he gestures at the thick bandage covering the side of his face.

Sokka frowns, how hadn’t he realized that he’d been speaking from his left side. He’s about to repeat everything he just said when the sliding door to the back bursts open and Haru’s mother steps in carrying in a large pot. He stops, words still dangling on the tip of his tongue, when she gestures back outside. “Either of you have the stomach to pluck a turkey duck?” 

Any chance of having this conversation is thrown out the window as Sokka sees Zuko visibly pale and look like he was about to be sick at the very prospect of that. He offers himself up for this particular chore. He’d always been the one to do it with the arctic hens back home, he’d always wanted to spare Katara from that particular experience.

***

They’d found the packages quickly, and had gathered them, splitting the load between the two of them. They’d been forced to take a longer way back to the village, unwilling to follow the road when they had spotted a small brigade of Fire Nation soldiers using it. The way was unconventional, using an old abandoned mine as a shortcut, but Haru insisted that he knew the area well and that they had to use it, otherwise they’d never make it back before sundown.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I didn’t know about your father.” Not for the first time today she finds herself jumping from boulder to rock, and wishing that she had the same uncanny balance and jumping ability of a goat dog that everyone else seemed to have. First Zuko, now Haru. It didn’t seem fair.

“That’s okay.” “It’s funny. The way you were talking back in the store? It reminded me of him.” He takes the package from her and sets it down, offering his hand to help her up the last leg of the climb. She accepts it. 

“Thanks.”

He climbs up one of the ledges and looks across over the forest below them, the cooking and hearth fires from the village left smoke tendrils is the distance. “My mother used to speak like that too when I was younger. When they took my father, they took a part of her away that day too. Broke her. Made her afraid. Feels like living with a corpse sometimes.”

She understood. She had lived with her own fair share of ghosts. Not so long ago, her father too wandered aimlessly through the South Pole, lost and broken. He could barely look at her and Sokka, then. They had reminded him too much of what he had lost. It was only because the strength that Gran-Gran, Sokka, and Bato had that they were able to dredge him up from the depths of his own despair that had grown to swallow him.

Haru and his mother didn’t have that kind of community here. They kept going anyway. They had to.

“My father was very courageous. When the Fire Nation invaded, he and the other earthbenders were outnumbered ten to one. But they fought back anyway.”

She wanted to speak about how it takes great courage and willpower to fight against odds like that. How fighting back to remind the Fire Nation that this wasn’t a battle that they could win with sheer numbers, that they would have to pry every inch of land from the people and that they would pay. And one day they wouldn’t be able to pay, and that would be the day that we won. And that day was coming. And that day was worth fighting for. But she couldn’t.

“He sounds like a great man.” She hoped that was enough.

“They lost.” 

It wasn’t.

“After the attack, they rounded up my father and everyone who had fought alongside him. And then every other earthbender they could find and took them away. They came one night and suddenly half the village was on fire and families were separated. We haven’t seen them since. We don’t even know where they are. Or if they’re alive. Just gone.” He kneels down on the ledge and picks up two stones.

“So that’s why you hide your earthbending.”

“Yeah. Problem is…” he earthbends the two stones in a circle above his hand, changing their shape. “The only way I can feel close to my father now…” he crushes the stones to sand in his fist “... is when I practice my bending. He taught me everything I know.” He opens his palm and lets the sand blow away in the wind. 

“See this necklace? My mother gave it to me.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I lost my mother in a Fire Nation raid. She died protecting all of us. This necklace is all I have left of her.”

“It’s not enough, is it?” 

“No.” She chokes the word out. It hurts to admit it. It was the first time she had admitted it to anyone but herself, the first time she had dared say it out loud. She could feel tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Haru gave her a sympathetic nod, and had the decency to look away as she wiped her face with her sleeve.

Her tears are interrupted by the sounds of rocks crashing into each other, and the rocky outcrop they had come to rest upon rumbles gently beneath them. A sharp cry of pain rings out clearly, and a second sharp rumble cuts through the ground again, and the sudden appearance of a cloud of dust 

“The mine!” He slides down the rock face, pebbles seemingly jumping out of his way and lands running towards the mine entrance, wasting no time in stopping. Katara trails slightly after him, taking the less direct but safer sloping path down the side. They stand shocked as they find the mine’s entrance had caved in on itself, pinning an old man to the ground on his stomach under the wooden support beams of the entrance.

“Help me!” The old man’s cries pull them both out of their stupor and Haru jumps into action, bracing his back against the mine entrance. She reaches for the man’s arms, pushing away the sand that had been piling up around him, and pulls with all her might. The old man’s hands slip out of hers, and she falls back.

“It’s not working! We need to get help!”

The rocks shift slightly, and the wooden frame of the mine entrance splinters, cracks racing up along the sides. There’s no time. You just have to pull harder.” 

She knows it won’t work, but does as he says. She ends up with sand under her fingernails and in her braid for her efforts. “Haru. There’s a way you can help him.” She jumps back out of the way of the most recent outpouring of rocks and pebbles from the mine shaft.

“No there isn’t.” He grits his teeth and shifts his stance to shift more of the weight off the wooden frame. The wood stops creaking and the splintering stops. He lets out a sigh of relief letting his shoulders relax for a second, dropping his guard. And in that brief moment of respite a torrent of sand rains down on both of them, burying the old man up to his nose, and forcing Haru to spit out the grains that had forced their way into his mouth.

Katara begins to dig out the sand around the old man, giving him enough space so that he is able to breathe without inhaling sand and dirt, before she wraps her arms under the man’s armpits and starts pulling again. “Haru…” her voice wavers for a second before she steels herself to deal with the situation. “There’s no one else around to see you. It’s the only way. You know it.”

He looks down at the old man, trapped under the rocks, life in his hands. He looks away for a second, remembering everything that his mother had said, and then everything that his father had stood for. Zuko’s words from earlier come back to him,  _ people who can bend have power _ . 

“I hope you’re right.” He mumbles it more for himself than for the others to hear. He lets go of the mine, and leaps away from the debris that began to fall now that it was no longer supported in place. 

He spins back to face it as he assumes an earthbending form. Just as the top half of the mine collapses he pushes his arm out with a strong and sudden motion, stopping the boulders mid-air. He brings his arms in and thrusts them out again, in quick succession, flinging the rocks down the tunnel, freeing the old man, and closing off the mine entrance.

“Haru, you did it!”

“Yeah,” he looks darkly down at the old man who had been staring up at him. He spies a glint of fear in his eyes that quickly disappears as Katara’s excited babbling takes over and she hoists the man up, asking him if he was okay, and if anything hurt. Haru takes his place on the other side of the old man, helping him walk away from what should have been a deadly accident. “I did it,” he looks back at the collapsed mine,  _ but at what cost? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some decades feel like weeks and some weeks feel like decades. Well I went through an entire character arc on that long Tuesday.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sokka: My job is to come up with ideas. I never promised they'd be good. Or feasible.
> 
> Katara: Aren't you all tired of being nice. Don't you all want to go apeshit?!
> 
> Featuring:  
> * Sokka bargaining with Spirits he's not 100% convinced exist  
> * The exact moment Haru became ride or die for Katara.  
> * Tyro and his wife having the same approach to things

Ordinarily she’d be the first person to want to sleep in, she never really agreed with the sun, but she’d noticed that the water jug was nearly empty the night before, or more accurately Haru’s mother had brought attention to it and had added it to the tally of things that needed to be done today. After their kindness in letting them stay the night, and feeding them a rather filling meal, sharing what little they had with them, it only felt right that she should do this. Apparently Sokka had plucked the bird they had eaten, and even Zuko had helped clean the store, she felt like she had to do something. 

She’d snuck off a little before sunrise, making sure to not disturb Zuko and her brother as she passed. Although she doubts she needed to be sneaky, it was difficult to hear anything over Sokka’s snoring. Why anyone would willingly try and sleep anywhere near that was beyond her, but still there was her brother sprawled across a pile of hay, and a few feet away was Zuko, curled up and practically nestled into the straw so that only the tip of his shoulder was easily visible. 

Sokka had rudely fallen asleep in the middle of her telling them about Haru’s quite heroic save of the old man, and gotten a pebble thrown at his head for good measure. Seeing him pop up with hay sticking out of his hair had almost been worth his edict that they would leave at dawn, she’d only complained a little bit. It was Zuko who had been the one to agree with her that it was brave, especially considering what they had learned what would happen to anyone caught earthbending. He’d even gone so far as to say that she’d probably inspired him to do that. Even if she didn’t put much weight in what he said - how much could you believe - it was a nice thing to think about as the sun began to peak out over the horizon.

The trip to the well was a short one, and the early morning meant that many people were still asleep. Nobody was out on the streets. She used waterbending to fill the jug and hefted it up over her shoulder carrying large amounts of water with the ease that only a waterbender had. She’s nearly back to the barn about to deposit the jug on the ground when she notices a figure standing on the hill. A choked sob fills the air she abandons the jugs and runs to the woman. She takes her shoulders and turns the woman to face her. “What’s wrong?” It was Haru's mother.

“They took him.” A single tear runs down the side of her face. “They took my little Haru away.” She clenches her fists to her chest and drops to her knees, dust streaming up around her. “And I did nothing. It happened again. I couldn’t protect him.” She looks out towards the ocean, letting out a broken sob. 

Katara drops the pot. It shatters as it hits the ground, water seeping into dirt. She takes Haru’s mother in her arms, lets her cry and grieve. She’s all too familiar with this part of the process. She and Gran-Gran were usually the ones that would visit to deliver the news, when the news came. It never got easier. But she could hold her own tears back for now, she’d had plenty of practice.

She lets the woman dry her eyes with the edges of her skirt, and helps her stand when she’s cried herself dry, and leads her back to her home. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’m so sorry.” She just keeps repeating that phrase “I’m so sorry,” like that would fix everything. She knew full well it wouldn’t, but it was better than letting the poor woman cry in silence.

Sokka and Zuko are in the storefront when she brings in Haru’s mother, bringing out the barrels that they had stored in the back the night before. Sokka sets down his barrel with a sigh and wipes the sweat from his brow. His greeting cuts off halfway when he notices the woman’s puffy red eyes. He takes a step back, and pulls out the stool from behind the counter to give her a place to sit down.

Haru’s mother starts crying again when she catches sight of Zuko. He steps closer to apologize, Sokka pulls him back and shakes his head. “I think you should go wait out back.” He whispers, as Katara wraps the woman in a blanket. Sokka turns to look back at the sobbing woman, before pointedly staring at the ground. “She needs space.”

Zuko’s mouth is slightly open, condolences stuck in his throat, he glances away from Sokka and to the sobbing woman as her cries grow quieter with Katara’s ministrations. “Okay.” He nods, unsure of what he can do to help. “I’ll be outside.”

He sits on the back steps of the shop, waiting for Sokka and Katara. A few people from the village walk past and throw sympathetic glances to the shop, before ducking their heads away upon spotting Zuko. He sits there for what feels hours when Sokka joins him, sitting wordlessly at his side. All at once thoughts of exactly how to explain why he didn’t tell him he was not just from the Fire Nation but  _ the  _ Fire Nation itself - or had been once - flood back into his mind.

“I put her to bed. She’d hardly slept.” He turns to see Katara leaning against the frame of the open doorway and quickly drowns those thoughts, they could be dealt with later. “The old man he’d saved turned him in, to the Fire Nation. It’s all my fault - I forced him into earthbending.” 

Sokka gently nudges Zuko to the side, before scooching over and patting the newly created space between them, inviting Katara to sit. She paces around a bit before sinking down between them, her shoulders slumping.

“You were just trying to help a trapped old man. You meant well.” Zuko pats her on the shoulder in the best approximation of care and support he can give. It feels hollow. Especially when as soon as he moves his arm out of the way Sokka envelops her in his arms and tucks her head under his chin in the most brazen show of comfort and support that Zuko had ever seen. She stays there for a bit, under the care and mumbling of Sokka’s reassurances until she’s no longer sniffling and on the verge of tears.

“When did they take him?”

“She said they came for him around midnight.”

Sokka puts a thumb to his chin to think. “Too late to track him then. They’d be long gone.” He mutters under his breath. 

“We don’t need to track him. The Fire Nation is going to take me right to Haru.”

“And… why would they do that?”

“Because they’re going to arrest me for earthbending.” She punches her palm with her fist to mark the end of the discussion and stands up. 

“Katara, I don’t want to curb your enthusiasm, but there’s a couple major flaws with your idea.” She crosses her hands and looks down at Zuko. “Unless I’ve horribly misunderstood everything that’s happened so far, you’re not..” he closes his eyes and turns away preparing to get water splashed on him. “... An earthbender.”

When the splash didn’t come, he opens his eyes and looks back at Katara, now slumped against the wall, tilting her head back. “I didn’t think that far ahead, okay?” She admitted, running her hand through her hair and tugging at the edge of her braid. “I just - We have to do something. I have to do something. I have to make this right.” 

He understands. It’s the one thing she can count on him to understand. 

“The idea itself isn’t bad, getting the Fire Nation to tell you exactly where they’re keeping their prisoners saves us days of searching. It’d be easier if we had an actual earthbender, although we could maybe fake earthbending…” Sokka strokes his chin. “No that’d only work with airbending, and you’d have to airbend on cue, so we can’t do that.” He throws his head back and groans in frustration. “If only it was firebending that was illegal. Fake firebending is easy.” Zuko tilts his head at Sokka mouthing the words  _ fake firebending? _ to Katara. 

“We also have an actual firebender.” She ignores him, not wanting to get distracted with the implications of his sincerity. Not when Haru was captured and the Fire Nation was doing who knows what to him.

“Or waterbending. Although that’s harder to fake with no snow.”

“We also wouldn’t have to fake waterbending.” 

Sokka dismissively waves his sister’s true complaint away. “Oh hush, you’re no fun.”

“This isn’t-”

“You know, Haru said all types of bending that wasn’t firebending were being policed.” He interrupts them before they could get too involved in their argument. They turn to look back at Zuko, surprise on their faces. “They’re targeting airbenders in general and earthbenders here specifically. And, if half of what you say your father is doing with the Southern Water Tribe’s navy is true, then I’m sure that they won’t be particularly happy to see a waterbender.”

“Of course, why didn’t  _ I _ think of that?” Sokka slaps his forehead in frustration.

“So then it’s settled, I’ll get arrested, you two track me, and then we break out Haru from wherever they’re keeping him.” He nods, agreeing with Katara’s proposed plan. It made the most sense, she was the only one that could be easily arrested.

Sokka begins to nod before realizing exactly what he was agreeing to.

***

“I’m sure they’re over here somewhere. I swear one of them was waterbending!” Sokka and Katara hear Zuko before they spot him, dragging two Fire Nation soldiers in tow. They nod at each other.  _ Places _ .

Their plan was simple enough, fake a fight, time it so that the soldiers saw Katara waterbending, follow the soldiers after they arrested Katara. Even if he didn’t like the plan, Katara had convinced him that it was the only thing they could do. Now all that he had to do right now was make their fight believable. They’d had years of practice.

He deliberately walks into her, shoving her away roughly. “Out of my way  _ pipsqueak! _ ” He raises his voice hoping some of it would get carried over and heard by the guards. 

“ _ Pipsqueak?!” _ Katara parrots back at him, her voice rising to dangerly high pitches. He might have gone too far. “How  _ dare _ you call me pipsqueak. You - you giant-eared cretin!”

“ _ What _ did you call me?” His voice cracks.

“A giant-eared cretin.” She juts out her chin in a smug air, as Sokka puts a hand up to his ears to test their size.

“You better back off,” he growls threateningly at his sister, whipping his hand down from his face and making a show of putting his hand on his weapon. 

“I mean look at those things!” She points towards his ears. “Do herds of animals use them for shade?” She puts her hands to head, palms out and wiggles her fingers.

“Seriously back off.” He mutters between gritted teeth.

“I will not back off. I bet elephant seals get together and make fun of how large  _ your _ ears are!”

“That’s it! You’re going down!” He draws his club out and holds it in one hand. Katara laughs.

“I’ll show  _ you _ who’s the boss! Waterbending style!” She dramatically uncorks her waterskin and draws out water, forming a single small snowball which she launches at Sokka. 

He swings his club, deflecting the incoming snowball directly into Zuko’s face as he was rounding the corner with the guards. He lands backwards with a groan as Sokka winces. He’s had facefuls of unexpected snow thrown at him his whole life, he knew it didn’t feel good. One of the soldier’s jaw drops and the other points with his finger.

“A waterbender!” The guard’s pointing at him.

He lets his grip on his club loosen, letting it drop as far as he could while still holding it. Bringing his palm to his forehead, he sighs. “No you  _ idiot _ ,  _ she’s _ the waterbender.” He angrily waves his arms and gestures at his sister, who had various streams of water circling her body and her arms. Katara waves her hand, and one of the streams of water mimics the motion. 

“Oh… of course.” Tight lipped and red-faced, the guard readjusts his position and points his spear at Katara. ‘You there, cease your bending!”

“Oh really? And what if I don’t? What are you going to do, arrest me?” She holds a giant blob of water above their heads, and sends out a slow moving stream of water towards Sokka.

“Don’t worry I’ll get her!” Sokka ducks under the stream of water, and rolls behind her. He taps her shoulder and she immediately lets the water drop. Drenching the two Fire Nation guards. He leans in to whisper. “You’ve got until sunrise to find Haru. We’ll be right behind you.” She nods, and lets Sokka take the waterskin from her hip and escort her to the two guards, who were still sputtering out water.

They wait patiently for them to lift their drenched caps up so that they can see, as they take over escorting Katara. Sokka goes to Zuko, feigning to check if he’s alright as Katara shoots one last glance over to Sokka, nodding. They disappear around the corner.

“You okay?” Zuko finishes brushing off the remnants of snow from his face. He hadn’t meant to hit him, it just happened.

“Can’t say I’m a huge fan of letting my sister get intentionally captured by a group of ruthless firebenders.” He hums in agreement. 

It wasn’t a great plan, so many things could go wrong. But it was the best that they could do with their limited numbers, and lack of equipment and skills. Ideally he would have tried to get access to the records that the local military leader had, that would have at least given them clues as to where they would search, and maybe even the actual place that Haru was being held. Sneaking in and out of places was a skill that he was proud of, he’d spent years honing it.

“Are my ears that big?” His thoughts were interrupted by Sokka’s voice. He looks at him, squinting his eye in confusion. “My ears. Are they big?” Sokka repeats himself, gesturing to one of his ears.

“So I  _ did _ hear you correctly the first time.” Sokka rolls his hands, expectantly. Zuko groans, and runs his hand across his face, letting it rest under his chin as he looks at Sokka. “Uhm… No?”

“You hesitated.”

“I didn’t  _ hesitate _ . I was  _ confused _ . There is a  _ difference _ .” His frustration creeps up on him as sparks start to form in his clenched hands. Sokka gives him a pointed look, staring down judgingly at Zuko’s firebending outburst. He swallows and dismisses the flames, rubbing his hand on his chest for good measure, and letting out a puff of air in annoyance. It comes out as flames, and he quickly turns away before Sokka can give him another judging look.

“What do your ears have to do with this anyways?” He mutters to himself, annoyed that he’d let such a simple look get under his skin. He’d have to get better at controlling his emotions,  _ a good firebender shouldn’t let his emotions take control _ . Father had taught him that. He took a deep breath to center himself. _ A good firebender remains calm even in the face of fire _ . General Roku had taught him that. 

Deeming himself sufficiently cooled off, and no longer at risk of starting an accidental forest fire he turns back to Sokka. “I think we can follow them now.” 

Sokka nods, and Zuko lets out a short whistle. A few moments later, the bush on their right rustles and Druk jumps out. Immediately demanding attention, and licking at Zuko’s face. “What did I say about the bandages?” He admonishes the dragon, who has the decency to pretend to look ashamed at himself before immediately jumping onto Sokka and proceeding to give Sokka all the face licks he wasn’t allowed to give Zuko. 

It took a few minutes to convince Druk to stop licking Sokka. The promise of his share of salted seal jerky was a price Zuko was very willing to pay. They were up in the air in no time, the new saddle Sokka had made - the child of many days of Sokka’s labor and tinkering - was a welcome addition that made the trip much more enjoyable. Sokka was no longer digging his fingers into Zuko’s sides as Druk galloped through the trees. Zuko found himself enjoying the wind in his face again, no longer having the constant reminder that there were two people who he’d have to make sure wouldn’t fall off.

They stand on the cliff’s edge, overlooking a bay. Sokka spots her first, being shoved off of a cart, and pulled along the pier onto a barge, the red flame against a black background assuring them both that it was Fire Nation. Something glints in the light of the midday sun, blinding Zuko temporarily. 

“Let the oceans swallow them all, and the storm’s wrath engulf them.”

Sokka was right to curse them. They had shackled Katara’s arms together, and if his vision was to be trusted, they’d also shackled her legs close together, allowing her only enough slack to shuffle forward. One of the guards yanks the chain connected to Katara, pulling her forward, and he hears Sokka wince, closing his eyes and turning away.

“She’ll be fine. Katara knows what she’s doing. She’ll be fine.” He starts chanting it under his breath, refusing to look at what they were doing to his sister. Zuko can’t give himself that luxury. The barge starts moving out, and they can’t afford to lose it. As soon as the barge clears the pier, Zuko gives Druk the go-ahead to launch himself into the sky, a gentle squeeze.

Sokka threw his arms around Zuko, returning to old habits by the unexpected jump into the air.  _ I should probably give him a warning next time _ . Druk quickly climbs up above some cloud cover, keeping enough distance that they couldn’t be seen, but could still keep track of the barge. Although Zuko doubted that many ships would think they were being tailed from the sky. His attention is caught by Sokka’s voice.

He had kept up his chanting under his breath, as though saying it often enough meant that the universe would bend to his will and make it true. He had to say something, even if only to acknowledge that someone was listening. Even if that someone was just him. “Katara’s strong.” He turns his head to the left so that Sokka can catch his voice but he can keep an eye on the ship. He says it sincerely, it’s easy to say, because it’s true.

“I know. I was trying to reassure myself.” Zuko hums in response. “I worry about her sometimes. She’s strong, and she wants to do good. But sometimes she doesn’t think things through. And that can... Can’t the sun set any faster?”  _ She’ll be fine, Sokka. Breaking out of Fire Nation prisons practically runs in the family. Just try not to think about the last time someone in the family got caught by the Fire Nation _ . He tightened his grip on Zuko.

“She’ll be fine. Katara knows what she’s doing. And she’s got flying back-up, worst case scenario.” Druk throws his head back as if showing his agreement with Zuko’s statement. “We’ve got this.”

“Yeah, we’ve got this,” Sokka mumbles in agreement so only he can hear it. He glances down at the foreboding metal rig below them and looks back at the shore, spotting a secluded bay where they could hide the  _ Ocean Glider _ nearby.  _ We might actually have this. _ He points it out to Zuko.

He pulls gently at the reins, and Druk peels away from the barge they’d been following to the rig. Druk circles around it twice before climbing further up into the clouds, as Sokka looks down at it. He sends up an uncharacteristic prayer up to Tui and La, anything for the safety of his sister. 

***

“Benders. It is my pleasure to welcome you aboard my modest shipyard. I am your warden. Although I prefer to think of you not as prisoners,” he begins to pace in front of the six of them and tsks, shaking his head gently. “No, I prefer to think of you all as honored guests.” He smiles broadly. “And I hope you come to think of me as your humble and caring host. You will succeed here, if you simply abide -”

He’s interrupted by one of the lined up prisoners coughing and sneezing as a cloud of soot rises up from a freshly deposited load of coal. The warden and his escort of guards immediately turn their heads to face the fending prisoner and with no forewarning, the warden leaps into the air and aims a blast of fire at the prisoner’s legs in anger. The prisoner cowers away for safety as the warden stands in front of the man, barely containing the anger in his eyes as it drips dangerously into his voice.

“What kind of  _ guest dishonors _ his  _ host _ by interrupting him?!” His voice wavers dangerously and the other prisoners squirm slightly trying to distance themselves as much as possible from the one that had attracted the warden’s ire. “Take him below!” He snaps his finger and the guard in charge of him shoves him roughly and escorts him down. “A week in solitary will certainly improve his  _ manners _ .” He mutters under his breath before taking a deep calming breath. 

He returns to his smug gait from before the coughing fit. “Simply treat me with the courtesy that I give you, and we’ll get along  _ famously. _ ” They’re escorted up to the rig on a lift contraption. She tries to focus on that, she’s sure Sokka would fall head over heels in love with it, maybe find a use for it for the South Pole. It’s a calming thought, gives her the courage to take the next few steps as the warden presents the rig to them.

“You will notice, earthbenders, that this rig is made entirely of  _ metal _ .” He gestures broadly towards the metal rig suspended high above the ocean. “You are miles away from any rock or earth.” Katara glances over the ocean to the land so very far away, getting help from the earthbenders may prove more difficult than she originally thought. She looks down at the ocean below her, and takes a deep breath, figuring out if she could coax up any amount of water up the sides, anything might be able to help these people.

Movement near the warden catches her eye as one of the soldiers that had captured her whispers into the warden’s ear. “A waterbender? Really?” He steps closer to her and she quickly brings her eyes up focusing on the horizon. He stops right in front of her. “There are special places for your kind, metal cages suspended over the volcanoes of our homeland.” 

She had heard of them. No waterbender that had been captured and been shipped there before managing to escape had been heard from again. Ruk had told her that many considered death a better alternative to being trapped in one of those places. That many had sought their escape in death when faced with the news that they would be transferred there. She gulped, trying to mask her fear. 

The prison warden smiled, eyes tightening in glee as he caught the scent of fear coming off of her. “Word has already been sent out for you to be picked up and transferred to one of those holding facilities. Shame that you waterbenders don’t tend to last very long there. Until then, the rig is nearly three hundred feet from the ocean surface. And prisoners around you will not be given water until you are fully restrained.” 

He gets close to her face, smile still plastered on his face and whispers. “I’m sure that will make you incredibly popular here.” She smiled back matching the insincerity in the man’s face thinking he would benefit from being frozen in place. Or thrown into the icy waters of the South Pole. She wasn’t picky. He frowns at her audacity and the guard holding her twists her arm.

“So if you, any of you,” he tosses his head back and refers to the rest of the prisoners. “Have any illusions about employing that brutish savagery that passes for bending among you people,” he drops his fake smile and replaces it with an aura of superiority and savagery. “Forget them. It is impossible.” He walks away to the end of the bridge toward the prison’s watchtower.

The two guards stand at attention as he turns to face the new prisoners, that smile plastered on his face again. “Good day. And have a pleasant stay at my rig.” One of the guards signals with his hand, and a lever is switched. The platform upon which the warden had been standing begins to rise up with a creaking of gears as the man looks down at them all. Katara keeps eye contact with him for as long as possible, letting him see the rage in her eyes.

The gates in front of them open, and they are ushered in by guards, too happy to rough the prisoners up. She looks down at the ocean hundreds of feet below her, lapping up the supports keeping the rig afloat.  _ Impossible. I’ll take those odds. _

She’s greeted by a familiar face as Haru spots her and quickly runs up to meet her, catching her in an embrace. 

“Katara,” his smile drops as soon as the brevity of their reunion is made clear. He was greeting a friend, that much was true, but at what cost. “What are you doing here?” He lets go of her, and steps back.

“Well, it’s my fault you got captured,” she apologized. “So I came to rescue you.”

“You got yourself arrested.” He shakes his head in disbelief, not wanting to believe her words. “Why?”

“It was the easiest way to find you,” she shrugs. 

He’s shocked by the sincerity of her statement, the casualness of it all. The implication that she thinks he’d have done the same thing for her despite only knowing her for a day. He shakes himself out of his daze and manages to muddle together a response despite how all his thoughts had fled. “You’ve got guts, Katara. I won’t deny that.” He places a hand on her shoulder, a sign of respect as he parades her towards the center of the courtyard. “Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

He pushes through a group of people, all dressed in worse worn rags than what they had given her. A few managed to crack sympathetic smiles as they passed. Even if their eyes didn’t share the feeling, the excitement bubbling off of Haru was enough to remind them of better days.

“Katara. This is my father, Tyro. Dad. This is Katara.” He presents her with a flourish and steps aside waiting for a reaction from either one of them, practically beaming at the absolutely massive man he’d just presented to her. 

Katara takes the cue, and bows slightly, mimicking the movement that Zuko had made when thanking Haru’s mother for letting them spend the night. His upbringing was useful for  _ some _ things she supposed. “It’s an honor to meet you. Haru has told me incredible things about you.” She hopes that was the right thing to say.

Tyro gives her a once over, “He’s told me many things about you too.” His guarded demeanor shifts for a split second, a small familial smile breaking the stone facade for a few seconds. All it takes is a curt nod and he’s returned back to his stony face and to his conversation with a few of the other prisoners that had gathered around him.

Before she can insert herself into the conversation, another older prisoner appears bearing bowls of food, their long hair braided back. They hand a bowl each to Katara and Haru, a small smile on their lips. “Managed to get you some extra, you’re still growing you know.” They notice the look of unease on Katara’s face as she looks down at the grey slop, “It’s not as bad as it looks.” They beckon her to try some, and not wanting to be rude, Katara tentatively puts a spoonful in her mouth. It’s not good. But she swallows it down, because food is food.

“It’s still pretty bad.” Haru admits through a mouthful, noticing the disgust on Katara’s face as she struggles to keep the gruel down.

“But it could be worse.” They giggle slightly, and Haru offers up a small pained smile as the beck and call routine is completed. When they see Katara’s confusion they offer up a small “Prison humor,” and wave it off heading back to the serving line thinking that would explain everything.

She settles into listening in on the conversation, forcing herself to have bites of the gruel every so often. It’s small talk for the most part until a particularly gaunt prisoner walks up to Tyro. “People are complaining there aren’t enough blankets to go around. They’re worried with the upcoming cold nights.”

“I’ll talk to the guards, see what I can get them to provide. In the meantime, make sure that the elderly are taken care of. The rest of us will simply have to hope for warmer weather.” She recognized the tone. It was the same one that Gran-Gran had used when Numa’s older brother had broken a leg and the family was worried that they wouldn’t be able to get enough food to last the winter and others had complained about the reallocation of food afterwards.  _ The rest of us will simply have to make do _ .

Tyro was respected here, that much she understood. Other prisoners looked to him for guidance. If anyone had an escape plan in the works, it would be this man. She casts a quick glance to make sure that none of the prison guards are within hearing range. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your escape plan?”

“Excuse me?” He looks shocked that she would dare ask such a question.

“I mean, I know I’m new here, and probably ignoring well-established ranks and hierarchies. But the plan to get everyone off the rig? What is it? Mutiny? Sabotage? I’ve got people on the outside that can provide support.” Or as much support as Sokka and Zuko can provide on Druk. But it was better than nothing.

“There is no plan.” Tyro casts a glance at one of the watchmen who was yawning at his post above them all. “Now please stop discussing such things.”

“I’m not with the Fire Nation if that’s what you’re worried about. Haru can vouch for me, I’m a waterbender. You can trust me with your plan. I might be able to help speed it along.”

“You want to know the plan?” She nods emphatically. He puts a hand up to stroke his temple. “The plan is to survive. Wait out this war. Hope - no beg that one day some of us can get back home and forget this ever happened.”

“How can you say that? You sound like you’ve already given up!”

“Katara, I admire your courage. And I envy your youth. But people’s lives are at stake here.”

“Which is exactly why we have to. Every day you stay here is another day that one of these people can die. Under your watch. And you’re telling me you’re just going to stand by and do nothing about it.” She doesn’t contain the rage in her voice.

“We can’t afford to tempt fate like that. The warden is a cruel and ruthless man. He won’t stand for any rebellion.” He puts up his hand to stop her objections. “All we can do is keep our heads down, weather the storm. I’m sorry, but we’re powerless.”

She casts a glance out to the dozens of earthbenders surrounding her, easily outnumbering the guards five to one. “We’ll see about that.” 

She takes the ladle from Tyro’s hand and grabs a trash can lid on route to one of the wooden tables at the center of the courtyard. She shoves aside the stacked plates and climbs to the top of the table, standing high above the rest of the prisoners. She bangs the ladle against the lid a few times drawing attention to herself, looking around to make sure enough of the prison yard takes note. One of the watchmen spots her, she makes eye contact with him, as she continues banging against the lid, and she keeps her eyes trained on him as he rushes off to the watchtower. As soon as she deems enough people are paying attention she takes in a breath.

“Earthbenders! You don’t know me, but I know of you. Every child in the Southern Water Tribe is rocked to sleep with the stories of the brave Earth Kingdom. And more importantly, the courageous earthbenders who guard its borders.” The warden stands on the balcony of the watchtower looking down at the assembled prisoners.  _ Good. Let him see. _

“Some of you may think that the Fire Nation has made you powerless. They may have taken away your ability to bend, but that is not where your power lies. They can’t take away your  _ courage _ . And it is your courage that they should truly fear! Because it runs deeper than any min you’ve been forced to dig. Deeper than any ocean that keeps you far from home!

“It is the strength of your hearts that make you who you are. Hearts that will remain unbroken when all the rock and stone has eroded away. And strength that will outlast the very mountains around us. The time to fight back is now! I can tell you the Avatar has returned! I can tell you that others are fighting back too! So remember your courage, earthbenders.

“Let us fight for our freedom! Together!” She lifts her clenched fist up high, the symbol her father wrote of so often that bound the Earthbenders together. 

She’s met with blank stares by most of the people. A few look at her with sadness before turning away to look at the ground. She meets Tyro’s eyes, and smiles, pumping the fist up again, willing him to stand in solidarity with her. He meets her eyes, glances over at his son, and looks away. She barely catches the whispered  _ I’m sorry _ .

Haru doesn’t even meet her eyes.

The prisoners shuffle away, piling plates at her feet on the table, ignoring her very existence. High above them all, she can hear the warden laughing at her attempts to urge the earthbenders into fighting back. Her fist drops slowly, as the realization dawns upon her.  _ Their hearts had broken a long time ago _ . 

She stands atop the table for what feels like hours as the sun sets in the west. She had hoped that maybe some of them would come up to her later, when they wouldn’t feel pressured to conform in front of a large group. At least one. No one does. 

She steps down from the table, landing firmly on the metal ground which reverberates. She sighs, she had really thought that she would be able to rouse an army from the prisoners. How naive of her. She hugs herself as the cold wind seeps through the thin prison uniform that she had been given.

Tyro stops his conversation with a few of the other prisoners and breaks away from the group. He looks down at her, sees the same despair he felt those first few days on the rig. Back when he still had the spark of fight left in him. He was the only one left from the group that had been brought in with him. If she’d arrived just a few days ago, he might have been more willing to join her. But now, he had Haru to worry about. He hands her a blanket and a bowl filled with grey slop.

“We have to survive.” Strong and unyielding like stone.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which they all play hot potato with the one shared brain cell, only to have it ripped from their game mid-air by Druk.  
> Alternatively,  
> Sokka: Why am I not surprised that the only one capable of thinking besides myself is the Dragon?
> 
> Katara: Just because you don't start a revolt the first time around, doesn't mean you shouldn't try again. Sometimes all the people need is a second inspiring speech.  
> Zuko: And weapons.  
> Katara: Yes weapons also help.
> 
> Zuko: You ever just have a stunning realization that you were being groomed to be a soldier in a war you didn't see coming and find out that everything you've ever learned was a result of that, and now all your memories with the people you grew up with and you thought loved you are now horribly horribly tainted because you're no longer sure if they actually cared about you or only cared about the role you could play as their pawn and think to yourself, might as well stick it to the old man and burn this motherfucker down?  
> *silence*  
> Just me then.
> 
> Sokka: Do I support my sister? Absolutely. 110%. With my life, and everyone else's life. Will I tell her that? No. She already has a huge ego, and I'm not gonna be the one to make it bigger.

She’s not often thankful for the lack of a moon, but tonight, as she slinks away in the inky darkness of the night, she is thankful that it’s protective glow isn’t there. It’s much easier to sneak away to the top of one of the towers where she’d be able to meet up with Sokka and Zuko. They get there before her, and she’s greeted by Sokka’s crossed arms.

“Your twelve hours are up; where’s Haru? We’ve gotta get out of here!” He whispers harshly, glancing around in the darkness to ensure that no guard spots them.

“I can’t-” He cuts her off.

“We don’t have much time. There are guards everywhere. Get on!” He holds out his arm so Katara can slide in between him and Zuko like they had done in the past as Zuko coaxes Druk closer to the edge of the metal bridge.

“I just said I’m not leaving.” Sokka looks at her absolutely baffled at the thought of his sister being willing to spend more time in this prison.

“Katara we can argue about this back on the boat. Get  **on** the dragon.” He gestures furiously towards himself. His voice stern and commanding in his best approximation of a commander. 

“Guys,” Zuko starts.

“No.”

“ _ Katara _ .” Sokka’s voice continues to be stern.

“ _ Sokka _ .” She matches his tone.

“Guys!”

“What!” “What?” They both react to him at the same time, crossing their arms in the same exact way as they stare at him flaring their nostrils. Zuko pulls at the reins that were hastily tied onto Druk’s horns and twists him out of the way as a searchlight crosses the spot where Druk had been hovering a few seconds ago. Katara ducks down to keep out of the beam of light.

When the searchlight passes and the alarm isn’t raised, Zuko guides Druk back to where Katara was standing arms crossed face defiant. “I’m  **NOT** leaving. I’m not giving up on these people.”

“Katara.” He’s pleading with her now. “I’m not asking you to abandon these people. But we have to go now. Please get on the dragon.”

“There has to be a way to help them.” She meets her brother’s eyes.  _ Please. _

“She’s right.” The support came from an unexpected source. Zuko keeps his gaze forward as he chooses his words. “We have to do something for these people.” He turns to look back at Sokka. “What do you say?”

“I say you’re both crazy. We need a plan.”

“You can think of one on the fly. Like how you disabled the catapult on the Fire Navy ship.” She’s still shocked that Zuko was taking her side on this. But she wasn’t going to question his support or his motives right now. Not when there were people at stake. Instead she nods emphatically in agreement.

“I hate it when you get like this.” Sokka sighs and shakes his head, still not sure why he agreed to this. “Fine.” He stands up on Druk’s saddle, holding onto Zuko’s shoulder for support, and jumps to join his sister on his bridge. She grabs on to him, and holds him so he doesn’t fall. 

Zuko follows suit a few seconds after, landing with a practiced grace of having done this hundreds of times before. He tilts his head and points back to where they had moved the ship, a sheltered bay that couldn’t be seen from the rig. Druk hesitates for a second, and he repeats the motion more firmly. Druk takes off sadly, casting a last forlorn look at the trio before flying up into the clouds startling a pair of guards on watch duty.

“Well there goes the only one of us with any semblance of sanity.” Sokka groans wistfully, looking across the ocean and to Druk’s retreating figure against the clouds.

“You should get back. Sokka and I will figure something out.” Zuko grabs the back of Sokka’s shirt and pulls him away from the edge he was teetering off of. “Can you try and convince the other prisoners into fighting with us? I don’t think the three of us can take on an entire rig full of guards.”

“I tried talking the earthbenders into fighting back. It didn’t work.” She sighs and looks down at her open palms. “They’ve given up hope. They feel powerless. They don’t remember why it’s worth fighting.” She clenches her fists. “If there was just a way to help them help themselves, I think they’d be more willing to fight then. But right now,” she looks back at the scores of sleeping prisoners at the yard, “they think they’re defeated before they even try anything. We need to give them their courage back.”

“In order to do that they’d need some kind of earth, or some rock.” Sokka strokes his chin in thought. “Something they can bend. That will make them feel like they have power again.” He lays his palm on the ground. “But this entire place is made of metal.”

There’s silence between the three of them as they try and think what else they can do. Sokka sneezes and that’s when Katara remembers the coughing prisoner when she first arrived. “No it’s not. There was a delivery of coal when I first arrived. They must be burning it.” The two boys look at her confused. “Coal.” She rolls her hands.  _ In other words _ . Still confused. “Spirits do I have to do everything around here? Coal. Earth.” 

“Oh.” Sokka puts his palm to his forehead and taps it. “Duh.” He brings in the three of them for a huddle. “Zuko and I will get the coal, and youl get the Earthbenders. Meet you in the central courtyard at sunrise.” He takes off the waterskin that he had been wearing and hands it to her. “You might want this.”

She nods and takes it from him, slinging it over her shoulder as she creeps away and slides down the ladder to hide amongst the other prisoners. Begging for whatever cockamamey scheme that her brother managed to think up of to work.

***

“Tell me  _ exactly _ what you saw.”

“Well sir, it looked like a serpent, except with wings, and it maybe had a second head spouting from its back.” The captain of the guard counts off the features he’s listing on his hands, ending with a complete rendition of the description with his hands.

“What?”

“I think it looked more like three heads total.” The second guard cuts in. The captain shifts his fingers slightly to reflect the change in description. “Yeah, like that.”

“Well, which is it? Did it have two or three heads?”

“Uh I’m, not sure. But sir, I don’t think that’s the point.” 

“ _ I’ll  _ decide what the point is, fool!” The warden grabs the captain by the back of his shirt and in one quick motion throws the man overboard, his yelling only silenced by a splash below.

“You,” he points at the other guard that had been reporting the incident to him, who was now quivering before him. “Wake up the captain. Search the entire rig!”

“Uh, sir.” The guard lifts a trembling finger.

“What?”

“That…” he points down to the water where the warden had just thrown the guard into. “Was the captain that you just threw overboard. So…” he lets his voice trail off.

“Then wake up someone I  _ haven’t _ thrown overboard and search the rig! There’s something going on here and I don’t like it.” He turns away and stands in the light of the moon. He twists his head back, suddenly, his orders not immediately complied with. “Well what are you waiting for? An invitation? Do it before I throw  _ you _ overboard.” The other guard salutes and quickly runs off to carry out the warden’s orders before he would also go the way of the captain and become intimately acquainted with the buoys surrounding the rig.

***

Sokka was waiting for him to return. Dutifully hanging around the shadows near the vent entrance that they had managed to shimmy open through a combination of Sokka’s boomerang, knife, and dumb luck. He was doing a decent enough job of hiding himself, but while Sokka excelled in untangling the many threads of life in the noisy underbrush, he thrived in the unyielding silence that dominated the rig.

He reached out towards his shoulder, surprising him into attack formation.

“Sweet spirits for-” The guard puts a finger up to his lips and shushes him, lifting up his visor to reveal his wrapped face. “Oh it’s just you. You could warn a guy next time.”

“What do you want me to do? Juggle swords while singing one of the drinking songs General Roku taught me?”

“Would you actually do that if I said yes?”

“Absolutely not.” He holds out the uniform to him instead.

“Worth a shot.” Sokka shrugs as he takes the uniform he offered out to him and slid it over his clothes. “Still insanely unfair that you’re not only the Avatar but also are extremely sneaky. Like why would you even need this skill if you grew up like a prince?” Zuko flinches. He clamps a hand over his mouth, he shouldn’t have brought it up, not here. Not now.

“Ask me again after we get off this thing.” He turns his back to Sokka and puts down the visor on his helmet.  _ They know. Sweet Agni they know. _ He pointedly ignores the tone of alarm that the little voice in his head was using. The uniform was long on Sokka, even though he had pulled up the sleeves and cuffed the pants, it wouldn’t work if someone was close but it gave him the right silhouette in the dark. He hoped that would be enough. 

“Sorry about the size. They didn’t have a lot of extra uniforms.” He keeps his voice calm. Years of being constantly under scrutiny made him good at hiding anything he could feel.

“It’ll work well enough. You know which way to go?” 

He nods. Even in the cover of darkness the thick smog was distinguishable, and the dark silhouettes of the cranes which they used to move the coal were visible against the clouds. He turns to leave and part ways for now, they each had their own half of the mission to help prepare for the escape they were trying to incite. Something stops him. Maybe it was the fear that his potential last words to Sokka were apologizing about clothing size of all things.

“Don’t get hurt.” He doesn’t turn around.

“Worried?”

“Yeah. That your sister will kill me if she finds out you got hurt on my watch.” He slides down the ladder and sinks into the shadows of the overhang, sticking around only long enough to see Sokka disappear around the corner as he headed up to where they had seen messenger hawks arriving. The echoing of his footfalls felt particularly loud to Zuko, but he could trust Sokka to handle himself well enough. He had his own things to worry about it, like sneaking to the cranes. And figuring out how to actually maneuver them. 

The second one was probably the more difficult of the two in Zuko’s opinion, despite Sokka hand waving it off as ‘the easy part.’ Machines weren’t easy. It was too late now to call out for Sokka and rethink the plan, maybe even get him to join him and run the machinery while he ran interference. He’d figure something out once he got there. He had to. But for now, he could focus on the easy part of his assignment. 

He slinks back into the shadows. He’s dressed like the guards, looks like the guards, and even mildly speaks like the guards too, so he doesn’t need to. But old habits die hard. He cushions his footfalls the way he learned back at the palace, there were no squeaky wooden boards to avoid here, but it was a mildly calming and familiar process he fell back into. 

He doesn’t encounter anyone else for a long while, and ducks out of the way, hanging from the side of of one of the railings when a rather large group of guards dispatch themselves in his direction, mumbling complaints about being woken up for no good reason in between yawns and rubbing tired bleary eyes. And that group fails to even register his presence in their apparent grogginess. If things were different, he’d critique their form and lack of attentiveness, but he was thankful for it today.

He slides down the final ladder landing at the foot at the monstrous amalgamation of twisted steel. A load of coal is already on it, just sitting there, not having been moved after its delivery. It was almost sad to him, that the Fire Nation had grown too conceited and foolhardy, so self-assured of their superiority and apparent victory that they would leave massive mounds of earth so close to the earthbenders they had gone through so much to imprison on a metal shipyard on the ocean miles away from the shore. It would be their downfall today. Now he just needed to figure out how to get the coal from here to there without getting caught.

“Hey, what are you doing there?”

He’d been caught. 

He’d been so focused on trying to figure out how the crane worked that he hadn’t noticed the crane operator coming at him. He had a few options, and he didn’t particularly enjoy the one where he threw the guy over the railing and into the ocean below, but it was an option if needed. Zuko was stronger than he looked, and had been trained by the most capable and premier firebenders in the Fire Nation at the time. He could fight, and fight well if it came to it. He just didn’t want it to come to it. So he left his options open.

“The Warden wanted the coal to be suspended above the prison yard. And then wanted the crane operators to report back to the barracks.” He’s lying through his teeth. But the guard doesn’t know that. So long as he remains calm, cool, and collected everything would be fine. Worst case he was pretty sure he’d be able to get rid of the guy without alerting anyone else.

“And why would he need us to do that?” 

Panic begins to settle in. Fighting was looking particularly alluring at the moment, but he wasn’t about to let the panic or his fighting instincts overtake him. He clears his head, thinking back to what little information he knew about the structure of command here. Katara’s final warning as she disappeared down the ladder pops to mind.  _ Steer clear of the Warden. He’s a real  _ **_nice_ ** _ guy. _ Her tone had been more bitter and damning than any tone that she had used to talk to him. With the little options he had, he was willing to bet his life that she was a decent judge of character.

“ _ I _ wasn’t about to question the Warden, but if  _ you _ want to, I’m sure  _ he’d  _ be more than happy to validate that order.” He holds his breath, hoping that the guard wouldn’t catch onto his bluff. He was banking on the blind obedience to commanding officers only getting worse during his absence. He was also banking on the fear that even the threat of potentially going against the Warden's perceived orders would sway the guard over to his side. Hoping that he wouldn’t need to raise a hand against him; he was a prison guard, yes, and if he needed to he’d fight, but deep down even the thought of that twisted Zuko’s stomach up into knots, because despite everything else, the guard was still from his homeland.

Katara had been right. The guard pales at Zuko’s suggestion, clears his throat, and stammers out an “I don’t think that will be necessary,” before moving the coal and crane into position he and Sokka had scoped out and rushing towards what Zuko assumed to be the barracks. He wonders how  _ nice _ the warden must be if his own guards were this fearful of him, and shudders to think what the prisoners must feel.

But as the crane operator retreats far away, he can’t help but be thankful he had spent so much time with General Roku, familiarizing himself with the general chain of command within the military. It had been useful today. It might be useful in the future. Maybe he could talk to Sokka and Katara about it, if anyone could find a use for that knowledge they could. Although looking back on it now, it felt much more involved than what he had read previous heirs to the throne had to do. He swallowed back the dawning realization that it was probably just another way his father had been preparing the Fire Nation for war, and had been treating him as just another pawn in his plans. Just like Az.

It had been difficult to hear about Az, little Az who had cried when he’d skinned his elbow trying to copy one of the katas that he had been practicing with him. And he’d always known that General had been a title that Roku had earned, but he shuddered at the thought of that man, who had always been so kind and gentle, who had always championed a more peaceful route, actually going to war. And what lies had his father fed him to actually go to war.

Looking down at the imprisoned earthbenders, he wondered whose idea it was exactly. The position and placement, the very design. Had it been his father’s idea? The idea of someone in his cabinet? General Roku? Or worse yet, was this something Azulon had made. Azulon who had been absolutely enchanted when the Air Nomads visited. What must have changed, or had he been so blind as to not see the seeds of discord and war be sown when he was younger?

No wonder Haru’s mother had cried when she saw him. No wonder Katara didn’t like him. If half of what he’d heard so far, half of what he’d seen so far had been true, he wouldn’t like himself and everything he stood for and related to. Let alone be so civil as she had been so far. But he’d have to put all those thoughts aside for now; because for some reason, despite literally every piece of evidence to the contrary, Sokka had decided to put his trust in him.

And Sokka hadn’t been the only one. 

He’d strapped Kikaro’s knife to his thigh underneath the skirts of the prison guard uniform. He didn’t know how to fight with it, but having it nearby made him feel safer, better. Reminded him of good things, of good people. People who had trusted him. Even when they had no reason to. People worth fighting for. Like the earthbenders currently trapped on this shipyard.

He couldn’t undo everything that had happened in the last hundred years. Not alone. But he could climb the crane and make sure that they had the coal at their fingertips come sunrise.

Maybe it could be enough for these people.

And if maybe it wasn’t enough just yet, it could be a start.

He owed them all that much at least.

***

“It seems that we’ve got not one, but two Water Tribesmen.” The warden sneers at Sokka as he throws him down to join his sister on the deck and spits out the last two words.

Everything had been going so perfect, until he had gotten caught sending the last messenger hawk. It had taken off, like all its other companions, to deliver its message that everything was alright to the Eastern command center. At least that part had gone perfectly. Now he’d only have to hope that Zuko would be able to make good on his half of the plan without him.

“Since I’m such a kind host, I will give you a choice. You can surrender. Or you can  _ die _ .” At his words, the three guards behind him immediately take position to aim blasts of fire at Sokka and Katara. 

“Katara stop! You can’t win this fight.” Katara turns to see Tyro, pleading with her, Haru peeking out from behind his father, and then to see her brother, gripping his boomerang at his side tightly, looking to her for guidance. She lets her uncertainty show on her face. 

“Listen to him well, child. You’re one mistake away from dying where you stand.” The warden’s voice cuts in.

Sokka gives her a firm nod.  _ I’ve got your back. _ Katara tenses, a stream of water drawn out from the hidden waterskin defensively poises around them as Sokka draws out his boomerang. The warden laughs at their pitiful attempts at defense, but they’d rather die trying than not have tried at all. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of letting them win easily, 

“Not today!” She didn’t say that, and by the quizzical look on her brother’s face he hadn’t said that either. The warden whipped his head up as a few of the guards had dropped their fighting positions in favor of pointing up at what looked to be one of the cranes that they used to move coal. It was carrying a heavy load of coal right now, and somehow while Sokka and Katara had been distracting the warden, someone had been able to line it up so that it hung over the prison yard. 

That someone was currently wearing a prison guard uniform, and hanging off the top of the crane, brandishing a knife - that Katara could have sworn was the very distinctive blue of the Water Tribe. She glanced quickly at Sokka’s boot confirming that the familiar bulge of his knife was still there. With a final swipe, what had to be Zuko cut loose the rope that was holding the load up, and coal rained down from above, littering the deck. The crane swinging down and tilting at the sudden shift in weight.

Unable to compete with the sudden shift in motion, Zuko tumbles down, landing and rolling down a small pile of coal. He lands as well as can be expected. “Well that could have gone better.” Zuko spits out coal dust and wiggles out of the coal. “Not my best landing.”

Katara takes Zuko’s sudden appearance and distraction of the guards as her chance, and quickly darts to the pile of coals, climbing it quickly. “Here’s your chance earthbenders!” She quickly lifts up a piece of coal and holds it high above her head, letting the water drop around her. “Take it! With it your power is restored and let your courage return. Your fate is in your own hands!” 

Haru bolts out from behind his father with no hesitation, prepared to bend the waiting coal and use it to fight with his friend. Tyro pulls him back, throwing him behind him, and stands between him and the prison guards, halting his advance. Again Katara practically begs him to join, and Tyro very pointedly looks away. The warden bursts out laughing.

“Foolish girl. You thought a few inspirational words and some coal would change these people?” He manages to sputter out between bouts of laughter before settling on a sinister smile. “Look at these blank, hopeless faces,” he gestures out towards the crowd around them. “Their spirits were broken a long time ago,” 

“Oh, but you still believed in them. How sweet. They’re a waste of your energy  _ little girl _ . You  _ failed _ .” He gloats and lets out a final laugh before snapping his fingers. On command the guards line up and surround the three of them, all of them taking aim.

“Okay. Great try Katara.” He pats her gently on the back as more guards continue to line up around them. “On to Plan E then.” He gestures to Zuko as he puts up his boomerang again. “You take all the ones on the right, I’ll take all the ones on the left, and Katara will take all the ones that get past us?”

Zuko looks at him in disbelief, shaking his head, but shifts into a fighting stance anyways. 

“Absolutely pitiful. You’ll die where you stand then.” He deems the altercation finished and promptly turns to leave. He nearly makes it to the lift when a single piece of coal sails through the air and pelts the back of his head, knocking his helmet askew.

“Who dared?” He snaps as he whips back around, eyeing down every single one of the earthbending prisoners in their tattered rags, idly scanning them until his eyes settle on the perpetrator. 

Standing atop one of the other tables in the courtyard was Haru. He had slipped away from his father’s grasp while the prison guards had been lining up and was now defiantly levitating three pieces of coal in front of him. Faster than anyone can react, he quickly shoots them out, knocking the helmets off of the guards closest to the warden, enraging him further.

In retaliation, the warden sends out a blast of fire towards Haru, thinking to make an example of exactly what would happen to any of the prisoners who would dare be so bold as to even think of rebelling. The blast of fire is blocked by the sudden eruption of a wall of coal, that falls to the ground as quickly as it was constructed. Across the way, Tyro stood enveloped by chunks of coal. He meets the eyes of the warden and slams his palm to the ground, letting out a warcry of “For the Earth Kingdom.” The coal erupts around him in columns, pushing the guards back.

The other earthbenders quickly join in, slamming coal to the ground and hurling chunks of rock to assault the guards. The battle immediately flares up as the guards gather themselves and start flinging back blasts of fire. Zuko stops one of the blasts that had been directed at Sokka and Katara and sends back two quick jets of flame, knocking that particular guard into an onslaught of rapid coal fire from a trio of earthbenders. 

The rig quickly goes on full alert, a complete and total lockdown imminent as alarms blare, and the personnel not currently occupied had busied themselves in shutting the large metal gates. Haru and Tyro break away from the other earthbenders who were fighting long enough to compress some coal into one huge lump, slinging the newly created boulder through the metal doors and bending them out of shape so they would no longer ever close correctly.

“To the barges!” A sharp cry of victory rings out through the rig in response, their hope rising with the sunlight streaming in through the broken gates, their long cold night at end. Not even the assembling of more guards to beat back their rebellion - the mere sight of which only a few hours ago would have been enough to cow them all back into submission - could stop the flood of earthbenders that came pouring through the doors. 

Few remained, beating back the guards who continually tried to herd them back into enclosed more manageable spaces. Katara was one of the ones who chose to remain, despite her brother’s many attempts to get her to the relative safety of one of the many barges that the prisoners were liberating alongside themselves. 

Their squabbling had been interrupted - yet again - by Zuko inserting himself between the two of them, and deflecting a well-aimed fire blast before sending back a few of his own in quick succession in an almost automatic motion before realizing exactly what he was doing and dodging out of the way of an overeager rock assault.

They shared a look, both surprised by the sudden interruption of Zuko, before nodding to each other in their tell-tale way of agreeing that they’d talk  _ later _ . There were more pressing things to deal with at the moment. 

As Katara and Zuko take turns whipping water and blasting fire at the guards around them, Sokka uses them as a distraction to snap the soldiers' spears with his boomerang. He tosses the most recently collected broken shaft he’d been carrying at the guard running at him. Tackling him as he stopped in his tracks to dodge the attack. As he grapples with the guard, he chuckles to himself, letting himself go limp in an ancient fighting strategy his father had taught him, as the guard struggles with trying to lift him off of him.

Fire flashes above him, and he rolls out of the way. A whoosh of air passes over him, and he hears the all-too-familiar grunt and thud of someone getting hit in the stomach and not taking it very well. Certain that it was friend and not foe that had attacked, Sokka lifts his head to see Zuko standing over the slumped body of the guard he had knocked unconscious. He could practically hear Zuko’s panicked thoughts of  _ oh no, I didn’t mean to hit the guy hard enough to knock them out.  _

“It’s all right bud-” he vaguely spots a guard running towards the very empty aviary - probably hoping to send word out to a nearby ship to call for reinforcements - only for a well-aimed rock to knock them down. He can’t help but erupt into laughter.

“Did you hit your head? Why are you laughing? This is serious!” He vaguely points in the direction of the empty aviary as his answer as he takes Zuko’s arm and pulls himself up.

A yell takes their attention as the warden, headpiece askew and face filthy with coal dust runs towards palms ablaze. Faster than Sokka can draw his knife, a watery tendril wraps itself around the warden’s waist and throws him into a pile of coal. A few more of the guards are flung into the pile by well placed earth column pushes.

Tyro and two of his compatriots surround the pile and push it off the side of the rig, suspending it far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to jump back onto the rig.

“No, please! I can’t swim!” The warden pleads, terror overshadowing every other emotion as his voice quivers and fear settles in his eyes as he realizes just how high over the water they were.

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Tyro loosens his stance, a few of the outer pieces of coal drop down into the water below. “I hear cowards float.” He drops the stance altogether and the coal below the warden plummets into the water. Dropping him with a scream. 

The other two earthbenders share a smile and drop the rest of the prison guards down into the water. A cheer rings out through the newly freed earthbenders. The few remaining guards that had been fighting stop, stunned at the tossing of their commanding officer. Haru takes their lapse of movement to fling them off the side of the rig to join their warden with a few well-placed coal disk strikes.

His father laughs heartily at his success as the guards plummet down into the ocean, no longer able to hurt him, or his son, or his people. It had been a long time since he’d been able to relish in that feeling of safety and of hope.

***

She looks back at the rig, sinking behind them. They had stuffed as much coal as they could onto the barges, and Sokka had placed a few barrels of blasting jelly in the boiler room when they had left. The explosion had rocked the rig and taken out one of the bobbing supports, and the whole thing had tilted to one side and begun to unceremoniously sink into the ocean. She didn’t like the thought of more soot in the water, but did like the idea of the Fire Nation having one less rig to produce coal for their ships and to house earthbending prisoners of war. It was a compromise they had to make. She looks away from the destruction and makes her way to Tyro and Haru who were organizing a few of the earthbenders on the beach, making sure everyone had made it off the barges. 

“So, I guess you’re going home now.”

“Yes, to take back my village.” He nods to Katara as he puts an arm around his son. He lifts up his clenched fist and raises his voice so that the entire crowd of former prisoners can hear him. “To take back  _ all _ our villages! The Fire Nation will regret the day they set foot on  _ our _ land!” 

The former prisoners break out in another string of cheers at Tyro’s bravado, celebrating both their arrival on shore and the promise of hope for their homes. A few of the ones whose hair was greying got on their knees upon arriving on shore, kissing the rocky ground beneath their feet, thinking they’d have died on that rig, never having stepped foot on earth again.

“I want to thank you for saving me. For saving us.” Haru had snuck up on her. 

She flounders for a second. She hadn’t expected to have to talk to anyone right now. “All it took was a little coal.”  _ Absolutely nailed it. _

“No. It wasn’t the coal, Katara.” She struggles to understand what he was trying to say. He seems to catch onto it and smiles softly before cluing her in. “It was you.” She blushes at the admission and looks away, trying to come up with words to say that would be able to hold a candle to what Haru had just admitted. His voice was sincere and kind, and completely unexpected especially since she still insisted that it had been her fault that he’d been captured in the first place.

“Are you sure you can’t join us?” Haru takes her hand and smiles brightly. “I’m sure that a powerful waterbender would be an incredible ally.”

“Not to mention you have the gift of connecting with people.” Tyro suddenly appears and puts an arm around her shoulders. “It would be an honor to fight alongside you again.”

She looks back over to Zuko helping a few of the earthbenders jump down onto the barges they had commandeered from the now defunct rig and Sokka looking through various papers he’d taken from the warden’s office. She shakes her head. “You have your mission, and I have mine. Someone has to keep them out of trouble.” She throws her thumb back to point at Sokka in particular.

Haru looks at her sadly as he withdraws his hands sighing. Looking up at his father, he understands her decision.

“Know that you have allies with us.”

She nods absentmindedly, looking back at her brother who, as always, was carrying way too many papers in his arms. He dumps the stack into her arms without word or warning and turns to Tyro. “Have you considered getting in contact with the Sea Wolves? I don’t know how much they can help with the more inland villages. But Dad won’t say no to someone who needs help. My sister’s a lot like him in that regard.”

She thinks she catches a hint of pride in his statement, and he won’t be able to deny the smile that’s plastered onto his face as he walks off with Tyro. She’ll lord it over him later, right now he’s too busy pitching his ideas, and talking about tactics and how to best use a small bending force like a scalpel to take out the occupying Fire Nation battlements back at his village. She hadn’t realized how extensively Sokka had paid attention to the guard towers and he’d even gotten a rudimentary schedule of their shifts. She was impressed, they hadn’t been there for more than a day, and Sokka had spent most of it on inventory duty and cleaning.

Haru raises his eyebrow at her, and tilts his head towards Sokka and his father, Sokka was now waving his hands like a madman, gesturing everywhere with each word.  _ Are you understanding any of this? _ She shakes her head at first, but then realizes halfway through the motion that she was in fact understanding most of what Sokka was saying. She had heard him talk about these sorts of things in great detail in the past on long fishing trips, and while she had mostly tuned the sound of his voice, the general ideas had stuck around. She nods.

Zuko arrives halfway through Sokka’s explanation, and silently takes some of the papers from her to organize them into a much more balanced and compact stack that will be easier to carry back to the  _ Ocean Glider _ . He’d lost the helmet somewhere in the fight, revealing that his face and the bandages around his burn were covered in soot; she had to bite back her want to berate him for letting him get his bandages so dirty. He had dived into a pile of coal and had been ready to fight an entire prison full of guards to protect her and Sokka. She could be nicer to him today. He didn’t look like an enemy, despite wearing red. He didn’t even feel like an enemy at this point. Certainly graduated into solid friend territory.

He leaned in to her and Haru, eyes glancing towards Sokka. “Did I hear him wrong, or did he just suggest training platypus bears to use as mounts?” 

“No, you heard him right.” She smiles fondly and proudly at her brother with his crazy ideas. Crazy ideas that somehow work. He catches her smiling at him and waves, sticking out his tongue. She rolls her eyes but sticks her tongue out back at him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, some of my favorite parts of writing all of this are the jokes in the notes.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated because I like building things together and weaving in snippets so feel free to leave things; the more the merrier.


End file.
